Saving Stiles
by DancesintheWind
Summary: There are new hunters in Beacon Hills and they have shown extreme interest in Stiles. Stiles would normally be flattered if anyone took an interest in him, but this attention has Stiles queasy with fear. Derek is assigning pack members to protect him but Stiles just wants to spend more time with Derek.
1. Chapter 1 Rude Interruption

Stiles was sitting at his computer, face glowing from the screen, highlighting his haggard appearance, evidence of his sleeplessness. The rest of the room was dark. He tapped the key board quickly, making little noises in his throat as he found helpful and interesting information. He leaned in closer, jotting down notes in a journal and bookmarked the internet page. He was researching a project for the pack and was finally finding what he needed.

A noise at the window startled him. He swiveled quickly in his chair, heart racing and breath coming out fast. Derek was pulling the window closed and turned to give Stiles a firm stare.

"Oh my god!" Stiles exclaimed failing his arms and almost falling out of his chair. He stood with an exasperated look, clutching his chest with theatrics, "Derek! You almost gave me a heart attack! Can't you knock or something?! Jesus Christ!" Stiles was standing in from of Derek, waving his arms and yelling. "You enjoy this, don't you?!" He complained when Derek only huffed in response. He poked a finger toward Derek and scowled, "meanie,"

Derek eye balled the finger, then quickly looked back to Stiles, then back to the offensive appendage, giving an 'if-if-you-don't-shut-up,-I-will-kill-you look. Stiles quickly pulled his finger back, curling his fingers into a fist and crossed his arms over his chest. He would like to keep all his fingers, thank you.

Stiles balked at the look Derek was giving him but obeyed the silent command. Pushing air out of his mouth noisily and asked, "Why are you here Derek?"

"Update me on your information," Derek ordered. Stiles internally sneered at Derek's tone, how rude, he thought, but shared the information anyways. The faster he got the job done, the faster Derek would leave. Stiles sat back down in his chair, turning toward his notes and unfolding his arms.

"The new hunters in town are known to be really ruthless. They are extra motivated to hunt and kill werewolves because all of them had family members who were turned. When they join the group, they are first commissioned to kill their werewolf family members, then they are initiated and accepted into the group."

Stiles paraphrased the information, continuing, "So they are perhaps even more dangerous than ordinary hunters because of their personal vendettas. These hunters are more feared because they don't follow the rules. They are ruthless and sometimes seem crazed, "

Derek grimaced with this news.

"Explain," Derek demanded.

Stiles sighed, here he was with the one word hit wonder but continued. "They say that they don't follow the code. They will kill bystander humans if they are in the way. They will attack in broad day light, at the grocery store or the mall, as long as it gets the job done," Stiles paused for a moment, as if he were done. Derek could smell the rising tension in Stiles, it wafted off the teenager like musk. Stiles was freaked out about something but didn't care to share it.

"What else?" Derek huffed, impatient to get all the information. Stiles sighed, running his hand over his face in attempt to wipe away his exhaustion.

"They are known to not only kill the werewolves in a pack... but also the humans too. They are willing to take the risks to get the job done, no matter the cost." Stiles watched Derek clench his jaw.

While Derek was distracted with the news, he took a moment to admire Derek's broad shoulders and trip waist. Derek was looking good tonight despite the exhaustion evident in his face. Then again, Derek usually always looked good.

Stiles maybe wasn't one to rank men's good looks but he did have eyes. He saw plenty of naked guys in the locker room at school and now he's running around with extremely hot werewolves, he's all but surrounded by hotness. It is unnerving at times especially when he looked the way he did, lanky and thin. He felt self-conscious about his appearance. Sigh, but it didn't hurt to look at Derek, as long as it was only subtle glances. If Derek find out that Stiles was checking him out, he would probably get his throat ripped out.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Derek turned away from the idiot boy and stared out the window. He would have to start demanding the pack to go every where in pairs. The pack was still so new, they weren't strong enough as individuals to handle a new threat like this, especially with hunters who didn't follow the code. Derek growled at that. He didn't like hunters because they ostracized his people, but at least for the most part, they followed a code and would leave him be, but hunters with no code were dangerous people, much like mercenaries, they got the job done, even if it meant being ruthless with mass causalities. They were always so unpredictable because they seemed to have no emotions and no loyalties.

His wolves would be able to handle themselves for the most part, if they were careful, but he was more worried about Stiles. Stiles was a different problem. First off, he was human and if the hunters hunted and killed humans as well, especially if they associated with wolves, he was in trouble. Even if the wolves did their best to blend in and act human, Stiles was loud and obnoxious, and with his luck, would attract all the hunters attention by lunch time tomorrow. Derek turned back to the boy. Stiles was staring at him.

"Hm," was all Derek said, furrowing his eye brows and pulling his hands into fists.

Stiles released another big, heaving sigh and wished for sleep. He was exhausted. He had school in the morning and if he didn't get enough sleep, he wouldn't be able to function. "Do you need anything else?" Stiles' voice was weary. Derek blinked at him.

"Not right now. Go to sleep Stiles," and with that Derek was opening the window again and disappearing into the darkness.

Stiles brought his head up and shouted out the window, "you're welcome!" he wanted to add, 'you ingrate mutt!' but thought against it. Derek would probably be back in a heart beat, pushing Stiles against a wall, growling, and making more threats.

Although Stiles loved bonding time with Derek, he was too tired to care tonight. He brushed his teeth and fell into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.


	2. Chapter 2 The Pack Meeting

The next day at school, Scott found him in the lunch room and they sat together with Allison.

"Dude," Scott began, "Derek called me and said we were having an emergency pack meeting after school today. Something about new hunters in town. Are you able to make it?" Scott looked earnestly at Stiles, eye brows up on his forehead, waiting for a reply.

"Uh," paused Stiles as he stuffed more fries in his mouth, "I don't know, I really want a stress free Monday. No wolves, no worries," Stiles chucked at his alliteration, and took another big bite of his sandwich.

"Dude, you hafta come! Derek said it was really important for ALL pack members to come," Scott gave Stiles a pointed look, "Allison is coming too," Oh right, thought Stiles, he forgot that because Scott and Allison were seriously dating, she was considered his mate. She was part of the pack.

"Although I love the thought that you would like to include me, I'm not really part of the pack, Scott. I just hand around a lot and help out when I can,"

Scott let out an exasperated noise, "Stiles, dude, your coming," he said with a note of finality in his voice, then, "If your worried about Derek, don't be," he teased, "I'll protect you from the big, bad wolf~" he teased in a sing-song voice.

Stiles just nodded, knowing arguing anymore would be futile. He would go to the emergency pack meeting but wouldn't stay the whole time. He was serious about his earlier excuse; he really needed to spend more time on his homework.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Stiles drove his Jeep to the Hale house, Scott and Allison took her car while Jackson followed in his Porsche. Boyd, Erica and Isaac were already at the house, sitting on the floor in the burnt out living room.

Derek was standing in front of the mantle, arms folded across his chest, scowling. Stiles couldn't help admire how Derek looked, all scowly and grumpy, what a sourwolf. But Stiles knew he couldn't think about Derek now; he was in a room full of werewolves who would be able to smell his intentions, before he even thought it through. Hard to keep secrets from wolves, so he squelched his thoughts.

Scott, Allison and Stiles shuffled in quickly and sat among the other pack members. Jackson however, sauntered in, chest puffed out, like he owned the joint, and sat in the back, leaning against the wall. 'Jerk,' thought Stiles.

Stiles chose to sit criss cross next to Isaac. He liked the kid. He was quiet and shy but really funny and sweet. He didn't act at all like a threatening werewolf, and Stiles was grateful for that. Sometimes Stiles was just fed up by the werewolf politics and issues, and just wanted to hang out with a friend. Scott was always busy now, if not with the wolves and Derek, then with Allison, and they saw less and less of each other.

Isaac was low in the pack but loved by all. He didn't let his wolf control him and was really sweet. Stiles bumped his shoulder against Isaac,

"Hey buddy," he said in a low voice, smiling.

He knew that everyone, except maybe Allison heard him, but he wasn't trying to be sneaky and quiet; he was just trying to be respectful toward Derek. Isaac turned toward Stiles, giving him a smile, saying, "hi," in return. Gosh, he had the cutest face. Stiles' smile grew.

When Stiles turned back to give his attention to the group, Derek had his eyes switching quickly between Stiles and Isaac, a frown on his face. Stiles send him a questioning look but Derek looked away. He turned and faced the whole group and began the meeting.

"There are new hunters in town. They are far more dangerous than other hunters we have dealt with," He nodded toward Stiles, "Stiles, explain what you found out," All heads swiveled toward Stiles. Stiles was caught off guard.

Normally Derek's meetings are held like a monarchy, Derek is the only one who talks, or rather, barks out information and then dismisses everyone. This meeting was starting to feel like a democracy.

"Uh," he began, not starting out well. He sat up a little straighter and continued, "Well, the new hunters are a group of people who have all had family members who were attacked and turned by werewolves. They are known to hunt down their own family members wolves and slaughter them," He paused to let that monstrosity sink in. "They seem to have no connection to reality and will stop at nothing to kill wolves," his voice faltered but he continued, "that includes killing any humans involved or associated with wolves." He swallowed thickly, his voice so quiet, "there was a report... where the hunters found all the humans associated with a pack in Vancouver. The hunters, they... waited until the humans were unprotected. They tortured and raped them, making them suffer. The hunters really took their time and enjoyed it. Then they slaughtered the humans," He paused again, swallowing.

All eyes were on him, unnerving him and he turned his eyes down to his hands, as he gripped his thighs, "they wanted the wolves at their weakest point when they overpowered the pack. They left their... kills," the word tasted sour in his mouth, "where the wolves would find them... and they did. The pack was devastated and went after the hunters. They did exactly what the hunters wanted them to do, give in to their emotions and attack without thinking... all the wolves were killed that night," He looked up then, at the faces of the Hale pack, taking in the horror on the packs faces as reality of their situation, but more importantly his situation, and Allison's and Lydia's, take effect.

They was in deep shit. Everyone could hear his frantic heart beat. It was one thing to hunt down wolves who break the code, and it was another thing to hunt down wolves who follow the code, but another thing entirely to torture and kill their humans as part of the game plan. It is common for werewolf packs to have human family and friends, but they are not to be touched. They are kept out of the fights because, well, they are human. Apparently, these hunters didn't see it that way.

Isaac leaned over and rested his head on Stiles' shoulder, his curly, soft hair, tickling his check. Stiles sighed, his heart rate becoming a little less frantic with the comforting gesture. He leaned his head to rest on top of Isaac's, appreciating his support. See? Another reason to adore Isaac. The room was silent only for a moment.

Scott was the first to speak, "oh my god!" he exclaimed, shaking his hands to emphasize the severity of the situation, "we have to do something!" Everyone's eyes turned back to Derek.

"Allison, what do you know about this situation?" Derek asked.

"I haven't heard of anything but that doesn't mean that my dad hasn't either. When hunters roam, it is respectful to go to the local hunters and ask for hospitality... but if these hunters don't play by the rules for hunting, I don't know if they would also play by the social rules as well," she frowned at the thought, but added, "I'll ask my dad though,"

"Good," replied Derek in an even tone. It was nice having Allison in the pack, thought Derek, even though she was a human. The Argent family and the Hale pack had formed an uneasy alliance during the Gerald fiasco and it was nice to be able to rely on each other during outside attacks or situations.

"For now, until the situation is resolved, everyone will stay in pairs. Boyd and Erica, Jackson and Lydia, Scott and Allison, and Stiles and Isaac. Wolves will take turns patrolling with me. While a wolf is with me, their buddy will partner up with another group. We have to stay together," Derek turned to glare at Stiles, "don't go anywhere alone,"

"Gee, thanks for your concern," replied Stiles in an easy manner, "I didn't know how much you cared," although Stiles was speaking sarcastically, all the wolves could hear the truth and relief in Stiles' voice. Stupid were wolf hearing.

Isaac, in turn, nuzzled his face in Stiles' neck, and murmured reassurances. At least he was paired with Isaac, and not someone like Jackson, or god forbid, Derek. He wouldn't know how to handle 24/7 pairing with either of those two.

Derek gave them another weird look. What did those looks mean? Stiles decided to file it away to pull apart and analyze later, in that sense, he was like a girl, always over analyzing looks and tones. It at least gave him something to do.

"You are dismissed. Let me know if anything comes up with scheduling or you hear anything about the hunters,"

Everyone began getting up and shuffling around. Normally after a pack meeting, they would stay and do homework or hang out and talk, but after such a somber report, everyone wanted to return to their homes.

Stiles was about the begin negotiating logistics with Isaac, when Derek added, "Stiles stay for a moment." Stiles huffed, but walked over to the man.

"What's up?"

"You need to be very careful these next few days," Derek replied in a serious tone.

"Why do I need to even be careful? I'm not part of the pack," Stiles retorted lazily even though his heart was beating frantically, giving away his real concern.

"Is that what you think?" it was Derek's turn to huff, "you are just a part of this pack as Isaac or Scott or Allison. Why would you think otherwise?" Derek furrowed his eye brows.

"Um, I never seem to be wanted?" Stiles replied in a questioning tone as he watched Derek's eye brows dance on the man's forehead.

"Stiles," Derek growled, "you are part of the pack, just a very annoying member. Be careful," he grounded out with his teeth clenched tight. At that, Derek, turned away and stalked out of the room.

Stiles was left feeling surprisingly warm. Although Derek didn't welcome him into the pack with hugs and kisses, a banquet? a glass of congratulatory champagne? Not even a high five? he still admitted that Stiles was part of the team and it warmed him. He was glad to feel wanted and appreciated.

A goofy smile was plastered on his face as he swung his arm over Isaac's shoulder. They grabbed their backpacks and loaded into the Jeep. All the other pairs had already left and in was getting dark. They needed to stop by Scott's house to pick up Isaac's things, grab dinner on the way and head home. Stiles needed to come up with a good reason for his dad why Isaac was staying at the Stillinski's household, and not with Scott. He sighed, a long night was ahead of them.


	3. Chapter 3 At the Grocery Store

When they came home with Isaac's things, Sheriff Stillinski looked up at them from where he sat on the couch with his files and a bottle of beer.

"What's up kiddo?" he inquired as he first looked to Stiles, then to Isaac with his sleep over bags.

"Hey dad!" Stiles greeted, "Isaac will be sleeping over for a few nights," he added not bothering to include an explanation. Stiles believed to always make lies as simple as possible, therefore, more believable. And in this case, it wasn't even a lie, just a statement, nothing more. If his dad asked for more, he would say something about Scott not being around, which was also true, because he was spending most of his time with Allison. See? No lies, just simply not providing direct truths.

After Isaac's father was killed, Isaac was orphaned and was living with Scott and his mom. It was really great that Isaac had a place to live, especially since it was with a pack member. Since Stiles considered Isaac a friend, it wasn't too difficult to pull out an explanation for his dad.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

The teenagers thumped up the stairs to Stiles' bedroom, or rather, Stiles thumped, while Isaac creepily stalked up the stairs, silent, like, well, a predator, no surprise there.

"Make yourself at home," Stiles began, "help yourself to anything in the kitchen," Stiles didn't explain anything further. Isaac had been to his house before and knew the layout. Stiles took a moment to retrieve extra blankets and pillows from the linen closet. He folded the blankets, some as a pad for the floor, and the rest to cover Isaac as he slept. After getting settled in the room, they worked quietly on their homework for the next hour. The room was quiet and warm. It felt comfortable to spend time with Isaac that wasn't a stressful life or death situation. He was an easy going guy and it was the second time tonight that Stiles was grateful that Derek assigned Isaac to him, and didn't pair him with someone else, like Jackson.

When it was bed time, they brushed their teeth, changed and got into their separate beds. Stiles used to have plenty of sleepovers with Scott as they grew up and still continued to sleep at each others houses, as it wasn't awkward for him. He could hear Isaac breathing and it was comfortable to know that Isaac was there in his room. His own breath matched Isaac's and he fell into a comfortable sleep.

The days passes quickly and the boys continued their patterns. They would go to school and be extremely vigilant during the day, trying to blend in with the ordinary population while watching for threats. They would drive home to Stiles' house in the afternoons, do homework, play video games, read comics and have really long conversations. It felt really good to have normal routines and a friend to hang out with, especially Scott has been too busy. It was so blissfully ordinary. He loved it.

But how long does ordinary last in Beacon Hills for Stiles? Not long.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Isaac met Stiles at the Jeep after school on Friday, like usual but instead of going straight home after school, Stiles wanted to stop by at Safeway to pick up some groceries for tonight's dinner. He was planning on making pasta but he wanted to buy fresh zucchini and squash to be included in the sauce. The loaded up and headed to the store.

"What vegetables don't you like Isaac?" Stiles inquired to his curly haired friend in the produce section. He didn't want to buy anything that Isaac didn't like to eat because Isaac was a guest and he didn't want him to feel uncomfortable.

"I eat almost anything, I'm not picky," Isaac bashfully replied, smiling. Gosh, he was so cute. Stiles sent a dazzling smile in return.

"Okey dokey, then I'll get the zucchini, would you mind choosing about 6 tomatoes?" Isaac didn't reply but turned and walked over to the vine tomatoes to put some in his plastic baggie.

"Who's your friend?" inquired a startlingly close voice on his left.

Stiles' heart beat quickly as he turned quickly to find a young woman standing next to him. She was tall and thin, dressed causally with unremarkable brown hair pulled back in a tight braid. Although she directed her question to Stiles, she kept her eyes on Isaac, watching each of his movements carefully, almost hungrily. She licked her lips then turned her gaze on to Stiles.

His heart beat even faster when she set her predatory eyes on him. He gasped at the intensity of her stare and took a reflexive step backwards... and into Isaac. Stiles didn't know when Isaac had come back but he could feel the other teenager standing behind him, his back lightly touching Isaac's chest. Isaac's chest was reverberating with his growls as he looked at the woman.

Both teenagers looked at her and she threw back her head and laughed. Stiles gave her a, 'you're-a-crazy-bitch,' look, his eyes open with alarm. She laughed with confidence, making it look like the three of them were only were good friends who happened to run into each other while picking out vegetables in the produce section. As quickly as she began to laugh, her laughter ceased, like she turned it off with a switch and her face was deadpan. She stared intently at both of them.

"You both are so cute. I just want to take you both home and eat you up," she chuckled and her eyes rested on Stiles as she slowly and pointedly licked her lips.

Stiles felt extremely uncomfortable but that was all, just uncomfortable with what she said, but Isaac took it for another meaning. His growling escalated and he wrapped his hands around Stiles' arms.

"Oh please!" She sneered above Stiles' head, directed at Isaac, "cut that out, you're only a puppy. I'm more interested in this human,"

She eyed Stiles again but returned and kept her eyes on Isaac, like they were having a staring contest. And perhaps that's what was going on. Stiles' research told him that werewolves, and other predators like real wolves, coyotes, large cats, and even dogs, have something similar to staring contests with each other. The one who looks away first is considered lower in the pack. Derek always had serious stares with the pack members until they looked away, especially when one of them was threatening his alpha status, like Jackson was always doing. When he won, it emphasized that he was alpha. I bet she was trying to exemplify her dominance over Isaac. Ugh, this has to stop.

"Excuse me? This human is right here!" he waved his arms for emphasis, "I can hear you!" he proclaimed.

"Is he yours?" she inquired to Isaac, pointing a lazy finger and dragging her finger nail up Stiles' chest. Stiles felt an uncontrolled shivered run through his body. "He certainly has a mouth on him," She replied tartly, "but, oh, the things I could do with that mouth," He didn't like that she was talking about him like he wasn't here. He didn't like that she was talking about his mouth! How rude!

"Um, who are you?" Stiles interjected, pushing her finger away from him in disgust. God, how rude!

"You don't know me but you will soon enough," she replied huskily, eyeing Stiles again and licking her lips, then promised in an equally husky voice, "I'm gonna hunt. You. Down. I'm going to really enjoy killing you, you wolf lover," and at that she turned her back to them and walked away. Oh great. a hunter. Whoopee.

Isaac held Stiles' shoulders and pulled him away from the woman. They both turned quickly, groceries forgotten and hurried out of the store and to the car. As Stiles drove the Jeep with shaking hands, Isaac made a phone call to Derek.


	4. Chapter 4 Derek Pays a Visit

Stiles rolled in his bed, getting tangled in his blankets, blindly fighting dream hunters. He woke up in a start, sitting up quickly and breathing hard. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. As startling as if cool water was thrown on his face, he remembered what had happened that evening.

After Stiles and Isaac got home, they had a mediocre dinner, after all, all of the ingredients were sitting in their cart, left at the grocery store. They never actually purchased any of the food. Isaac relied the message that Derek was going to stop by in the morning, calling a pack meeting at Stiles' house. Stiles only agreed because he knew his dad was pulling a double shift and would not be home until early afternoon.

The rest of their evening was uncomfortable, Stiles trying to play it cool and Isaac trying not to give it away that he knew Stiles was lying.

Stiles was trying to act like he wasn't bothered by what happened at the grocery store but he kept seeing her laughing face, telling him that she was going to kill him. And he believed her.

Normally when dealing with new hunters or another group of evil supernaturals to vanquish, he was able to successfully play it cool. Yeah, he sometimes freaked out too much or annoyed the offenders with his constant babble, or maybe they threatened to kill him a few times, but he never had nightmares. Normally these situations were mere weekend annoyances that got in the way of movie nights with Scott. Stiles was thinking about these new hunters differently and be blamed all those stupid, detailed reports. It was the first time, since the kanima, that he felt unsettled.

He tried to act like it didn't bother him but it really did. That woman really perturbed him. She acted so casual, like it was so normal for her to do this. That's what freaked him out a bit. Yeah, he has to deal with supernatural crap but he's never been casual about the job. If she is so casual, she must be used to this sort of thing and ready to kill his pack.

He rolled over, tangling himself even more in his sheets, and tried to close his eyes without seeing his friends slashed to death. He blinked away the images and tried again. This time when he closed his eyes, he saw her, she was coming at him with a knife and he couldn't move his arms, his friends already dead on the floor. His breath hitched and he sat up again, pulling his knees against his chest.

"Stupid active imagination," he huffed quietly, "It's just a nightmare, it's just a nightmare," he chanted. He closed his eyes, swallowed and chanted, rocking his body, as if to sooth his aches and rock himself back to sleep. He actually just felt like a crazy person.

He heard a low whine and looked over at the edge of the bed. Isaac was sitting up, starring at Stiles with his arms resting on the bed. Stiles locked eyes with him, not as a dominance thing like the wolves sometimes do, or like that hunter did, but more how friends can look at each other and know what their thinking. Of course, even though Stiles was thinking he was conveying a message through his eyes, it was more likely that he was conveying his message through pheromones; Isaac could smell Stiles' fear and anxiety.

Isaac whined deep in his throat again and crawled onto the bed with Stiles, hesitantly sitting next to him. He carefully reached out and took Stiles' hand in his own, rubbing it and murmured, "it will be okay Stiles, we will protect you," Stiles watched Isaac's thumb move across the back of his hand and nodded numbly. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again.

"I was just surprised. I had read all the reports so I knew their M.O. but I just wasn't expecting them to approach us so openly. I mean, she was some scary shit. And now she knows who we are or at least what we look like! And how did she even know that you were a wolf?! Was she following us?! Shit!" Stiles' voice rose with each statement, but his voice faltered, "I just want this problem to go away... I've been having a really great time hanging out with you, that I forgot about the new big bad in town,"

Stiles felt good after he vented all of that. It was true. He was having such a good time with Isaac and being normal, that it felt like a slap in the face to be pushed back into the game again. Isaac scooched impossibly closer and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, leaning his head in to rest against Stiles'. He could smell his shampoo in Isaac's hair. He could feel the heat seeping through Isaac's shirt and his shirt, warming his shoulders and side. It felt good.

"I'm scared too," the other teenager confessed in a whisper, "but, I know that our alpha will protect us," Although Isaac's voice rang with truth, Stiles didn't have the same reassurance from that statement. Usually Derek is anything butprotective of Stiles, always throwing him against walls, doors... Derek was a scary guy, but at least he was a scary guy on our team.

Stiles took a moment to think about that too. Derek was certainly very dark, mysterious and powerful. But from all the times he pushed Stiles around, he was always there to save him too. He was always there to save him from Peter, from the kanima, from Matt, from Gerald, even from Scott and Isaac went they hadn't established their anchors yet. Derek has always been there for Stiles. He should really thank Derek sometime. He has to deal with a lot of shit, especially from him and he didn't think he has ever said thank you. It had always slipped his mind.

At this shallow encouragement, Stiles nodded, heaved a large sighed and moved to lie back down. Isaac began crawling back off the bed but Stiles' hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. Isaac froze as Stiles turned his head, and pleaded, "please stay," Isaac paused, then nodded, carefully sliding down under the covers and spooning against Stiles, folding his arms against his chest.

Stiles sighed, reassured and comfortable. He could feel Isaac exhale, the breath warming his neck. He tried to match his breathing with Isaac's, inhale...exhale...inhale...exhale... He felt safe and soon sleep was pulling him under.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

When Stiles opened his eyes in the morning, Isaac was gone but Derek was sitting at his desk, reading his notes he left on his desk about the hunters. He closed his eyes again and rolled over. He was glad it was Saturday but it was too early to deal with Derek. Derek's voice broke into his thoughts.

"I know your awake Stiles. Get up, we need to talk," he said deadpan.

"Uuuuh," moaned Stiles, rolling over onto his back. Derek looked at him and sighed. "Fine! Okay! I'm getting up!"

He dragged himself out of bed, running a hand over his face and mumbling about grumpy werewolves. Now that he was more awake, he could hear the shower running, but asked to confirm, "Where's Isaac?" Derek raised his eye brows but answered.

"Shower."

"Got it," Stiles nodded. Well, he would have to wait for his shower so he sat back down on the edge of his bed and looked at Derek. Derek was giving him a look, it was making Stiles uncomfortable, "What do you want Derek?" he sighed. Derek gave him another look, this one more inquisitive, like he was trying to figure something out.

They both heard the shower turn off and in a few minutes, Isaac was stepping out of the steamed room, dressed in low slung jeans and a tee-shirt. His hair still wet and dripping. He dropped down onto the bed to sit next to Stiles. Stiles watched Isaac slump, making sure his head was lower than his alpha's.

"Good morning," he murmured with a smile.

"Hey there buddy," Stiles chirped, knocking shoulders with him and smiling. Stiles could smell that wet, clean soapy smell coming off of him. It made Stiles want to jump up and run in for a shower too but he had to deal with this problem first. Stiles turned to look at Derek and prompted him.

"Well?"

"Explain to me what happened again," responded Derek.

"Isaac and I were at the grocery store and a woman came up to us and was super creepy, dude! She said she wanted to eat us! Or maybe just me? I was confused about that part," Stiles' eyebrows raised up for a moment, trying to remember the conversation but he continued after a moment with vigor, "Anyways, dude, she is bad news! She knew Isaac was a wolf and I am human. She knew Derek! She said she was going to hunt us down!" Derek turned to look at Isaac for confirmation.

Isaac nodded but added, "Derek, she took an unhealthy interest in Stiles. Asking if he was mine, touching him, licking her lips..." Derek let out a deep throaty growl.

"What else?" He ground out between his teeth. Isaac took a deep breathe and continued.

"She said she was going to enjoy killing Stiles..." An even larger growl ripped out of Derek's throat, eyes turning red as he forcefully pushed himself out of his chair and towered over the two teenagers.

"And what did you do, Isaac, to keep the pack safe? What did you do?" His voice of dangerously low, teeth clenched. His hands were clenched in fists, white with effort to prevent the change. Isaac cowered on the bed, whimpering and baring his throat to Derek.

"I-I stood defensively, Derek, I- I," he whimpered into the bed, "I growled and showed her that Stiles was under our protection. I-" Stiles jumped up off the bed in retaliation for how Derek was treating Isaac.

"Hey! Stop being a bully! Isaac took care of things! He, he, stood up to that bitch!"

"Stiles, you don't understand!" Derek raised his voice and turned to glare at Stiles. "She asked if you were his?" Stiles only nodded, "She was asking if you were Isaac's mate," He punctuated the 't' on mate, snapping it through his teeth, his anger pushing more words out of his mouth, "If Isaac put his hands on you while she was there, it might have looked to her that you guys are romantically involved. She might try to use that against you, against us!"

"Why would that even make a difference if Isaac and I were together?!" Stiles shouted. God, it was too early in the morning for this.

Derek inhaled a sharp hiss of breath, a hurt look quickly passing over his features but it was gone almost instantly, making Stiles question if he really saw it or not. Even as fast as Stiles thinks, he was unable to process what that look meant because he had more to say. He waved his arms around, "I don't know why she would even care!"

"Look Stiles, if she so interested in you, it's because she wants to do more than just kill you," Stiles was flabbergasted, what could be worse than to be killed? Wasn't that the worse there was? It didn't seem like Derek would agree especially since he phrased it as, 'just kill you,' like their could be something even more terrible.

Derek blinked, looked at the floor and back up to Stiles. In a huff, Derek sat back down in the desk chair, bending over and resting his elbows on his thighs. Stiles felt Isaac tug on his hand so he also sat down. When everyone was sitting down, the tension seemed to drain out of the room. No more threatening werewolves, phew! Derek opened his mouth and began.

"After you first reported to me about the hunters, I looked into it as well, asking other neighboring packs. There were reports from surviving wolves from different packs who said some of the human hunters were so ruthless that they latched an obsession on to one of the human pack members. They would essentially turn the human into a hunter, er, whore, or, uh... toy," Derek couldn't help sneering at that word, disgusted at the thought, "The hunters would play with their toys and use them as a tool of mockery against the wolves. When the hunters were done with the human, they would dispose of the body," He paused to swallow and look away.

He could hear Stiles' and Isaac's frantic heart beat, but the sharp smell of fear wafting from Stiles made his wolf whine. Isaac smelled it too and moved his hand to rest on the other teenager's knee, rubbing his fingers reassuringly. Stiles gave a small smile to the wolf, grateful for his concern, but Derek watched the moment with narrowed eyes.

Both teenagers waited for Derek to continue, "It was especially concerning to hear Isaac tell me that he could smell the hunter's lust for you, Stiles. She wants you." Derek turned his head and made eye contact with Stiles, grimacing.

"I'm going to die," Stiles whispered with finality. He swallowed thickly, "shit,"

The werewolves looked at Stiles. Isaac whined low in his throat and leaned in closer to snuggle Stiles. Stiles remarked to himself that Isaac was cuddling with him more than usual, but I guess more shit was happening too. He took comfort in Isaac's lean and took a moment to compose himself. Stiles glanced at Derek. Derek looked anything but composed; His eyes keep quickly darting between Stiles and Isaac as he frowned. Stiles decided to tuck that observation away for later because he really needed to take a shower.

While Stiles was showering, Derek got up from the desk chair, removed his leather jacket and sat next to Isaac on the bed. He really liked the kid and knew that he should take more opportunities to show him that he cared about him.

He threw his arm around Isaac and pulled him in close. Isaac didn't need any extra encouragement and snuggled down, deep against Derek's side. He had pulled his legs up and folded his arms against Derek's side, snuggling in. Derek ran his hand over Isaac's back, massaging and murmuring words of comfort. He wanted to make sure Isaac felt safe. He was still a pup after all, so new to the pack and so new to his wolf. He needed a strong foundation so he could grow up strong and secure in his identity of the pack.

That's what alphas were suppose to do, and wolves in generally. They support their pack members because pack is family. Real wolf packs are usually one family, made up of grandparents, uncles and aunts, cousins, grandchildren and so on. When real wolves cannot speak and talk about their feelings, they show their love and support through touch. They sit close, snuggle and go do things. And just like humans, they also fight each other, but in the end, everything works out because they are family.

Werewolves take comfort in touch, just like their canine cousins. But Derek was more sensitive about pack touching since the fire and especially since Laura was killed. He didn't touch others very often and it's absence made him anxious and jumpy. His wolf wanted the contact, to feel apart of the pack but Derek always prevented it, trying to keep his distance, preventing him from getting hurt again. Now that he was snuggling against Isaac, it felt like he took a huge sigh of relief. His wolf was content to lay next to his pack member and Derek was content to appease his wolf.

Derek moved over so he was leaning up against the head board of the bed, legs stretched out in front of him. Isaac moved with him, as if literally glued to his side. When they settled in their new positions, Isaac tucked his face into Derek's armpit, breathing his scent in deeply.

Derek knew that humans thought it was a weird place to snuggle, but for a wolf, it was one of the better places; it was the place on the body that emitted a strong scent. Isaac was breathing in Derek's strong musk and just knowing that Derek was right there with him, made Isaac feel comfortable and protected; after all, he was in his alpha's presence and protection. The alpha would always protect the rest of the pack from harm. Derek leaned over and ran his nose through Isaac's hair, inhaling Isaac's own scent. Derek felt almost... happy and it reminded him of when his family would spend the full moon together.

Derek remembered full moons with fondness. They would give in the the change, running and hunting in the woods, then at day break, always returned to their den to sleep the morning away. They usually chose worn out places between giant tree roots, or underneath earthy bluff hangovers. They would sleep in a large pile, all cuddled and snuggled together. It felt good to wake up among family, nestled in each others warmth and feeling true companionship with those he loved. This felt almost as good.

He certainly wanted Isaac to be happy, especially since he gave him the bite. He was glad to smell the waves of contentment rolling off Isaac, with only the sour smell of fear lingering slightly. From the way Isaac and Stiles talked about what happened yesterday at the grocery store, Derek felt proud that Isaac acted on instinct to protect pack. But he also wondered if there was something extra going on between Stiles and Isaac. They seemed really close but then again, pack members were suppose to feel really close to one another, it was common. But Derek still wondered...

"Isaac?" Derek murmured into Isaac's hair, rubbing his face in Isaac's curls, which both rubbed his scent on Isaac and Isaac's scent rubbed off on him. If any wolves encountered them, they would know that they belonged in the same pack. This was another way Derek protected his pack. He would scent them so other wolves knew that they belonged to the Hale pack.

"Yeah?" Isaac replied sleepily, turning his face up to look at Derek.

"I-" he began until he was cut off.

"Whoa!" Stiles exclaimed from the door way. Both wolves looked over to him. Derek could smell the clean soapy smell and Stiles' own personal sweet, salty, vanilla musk. He walked in the room and closed the door. "Aw man! You guys are so cute!" he crooned, then added after a moments thought, "I have to get a picture of this, I love pack cuddles," he moved toward his desk to find his phone. Derek let out a warning growl and Stiles froze, quickly changing his mind, but not because of a scary wolf growling at him, nope.

Stiles looked at the pair, snuggling on the bed. Derek met his eyes and he knew that Stiles suddenly felt very unwelcome in his own room. He rolled the feeling off his shoulders and sat in the desk chair, fidgeting with his hands. Derek smelled his discomfort and sighed. He scooched over a little and patted the empty space next to him, like encouraging a puppy. Stiles' eye lit up and he smiled.

"Really?" he squealed, coming over quickly. Derek only rolled his eyes. Stiles sat next to Derek, close enough to feel his heat, warming him from shoulder to knee.

Isaac extended an arm out, reaching to touch Stiles too. Isaac's hand made it as far as Derek's thigh, otherwise, it would have been too uncomfortable. Stiles put his hand on top of Isaac's, rubbing his knuckles fondly, but pulled his hand back into his own lap again.

It was enough that he was sitting so close to Derek; he didn't want to rest his hand on Derek's thigh, even though he would really he resting his hand on Isaac's hand which was resting on Derek's thigh. Anyways, it felt uncomfortable. He tried not to think too much about how delicious the wolf smelled. He normally did not get the opportunity to sit so close to Derek and he didn't want to blow it. He snuggled with Isaac a lot and Scott and sometimes Erica, but he neverfelt welcome enough to snuggle with Derek. Did anyone ever feel welcome enough to snuggle with Derek? Maybe just the wolves since cuddling was their thing.

When Stiles pulled his hand back into the safety of his own lap, Isaac whined deep in his throat and looked at Stiles with hurt puppy dog eyes.

"Uh, well, I, uh," stuttered Stiles looking quickly between Isaac's puppy face, Derek's frowny face and his nervous hands in his lap. He wasn't sure if Derek was frowning because of Isaac's whine, because Stiles was sitting next to him or if it was just a permanent accessory.

"I totally want to hold your hand Isaac, and give you good feels, and snuggle," he gave a sloppy grin, "but there is this rigid brick sitting between us," Derek's frown deepened, "and although he smells great," _wait, did he just say that out loud_, obviously, since a sloppy grin spread over Isaac's face, "I'm afraid to accidentally touch him in case he bites my fingers off or growls, or rips out my throat or something equally bad. I really like how my body is right now, I mean, of course I'm not hot like you guys," _oh my god, again! Why did I say that aloud?!_ He hurried on, trying to cover up his mistake, "but ya know, I'm lean and strong, and I like using my fingers and hands, I mean, not for what your thinking of, well, actually, yeah, I do like using my hands for what your thinking of, I'm a horny teenager who needs satisfaction! But also for other things like driving my Jeep, playing video games, brushing my teeth... all of those important things require hands, so I want to keep my hands attached to my wrists," Stiles took a deep breath and looked back down at his hands, "So, yeah, sorry," He felt crushed.

Derek's wolf howled and pushed against his chest. His pack member was sitting next to him, fretting, an anxious, blubbering mess and needed to be cuddled. The pup had embarrassment, anxiety, but mostly sadness rolling off of him in waves and Derek's wolf pushed against his boundaries, trying to make Derek's body lean forward and comfort him. Derek tried to push his wolf back down but he howled and whined in protest.

Stiles was considered pack and should be in on pack cuddles, of course, but because Stiles was human, it was ... different. Normally the wolves beg for contact because it was instinctual, but Stiles didn't have those same instincts. It made him seem like a blind pup. He needed the pack and it's comfort, but he couldn't seem to find it.

Derek ground his teeth together, but slung his other arm over Stiles, pulling him in for a not-so-manly side hug. Stiles buried his face in Derek's shoulder, turning his body in. He could feel the teenager's smile against him and let out a sigh. The smell of anxiety and sadness dissipated and he seemed content now. Derek leaned over Stiles and nuzzled his soft, buzzed hair, much like what he did to Isaac. He breathed in Stiles' unique vanilla musk, delicious.

Stiles turned his head and squinted up at Derek.

"What are you doing?" the teenager guffawed at Derek. Derek had enough decency to look embarrassed.

"It's a wolf thing," he casually mentioned, hoping that Stiles would lean his head back on his shoulder. It felt good to have him there. But not for him, of course. It felt good because his wolf was happy. He was only doing this for his wolf.

"Oh," Stiles chuckled, "well, it tickles," Stiles did lean back, resting his head on Derek's shoulder again.

Derek leaned over again and nuzzled his fuzzy head, rubbing his scent all over Stiles and Stiles' scent all over him. He could feel Stiles laughing against him but now Stiles smelled even better when their two individual scents blended together.

Derek rested his own head back against the headboard and let sleep take him away.

He woke up later, he was resting on his side, sandwiched between Stiles and Isaac. Isaac had one hand resting on Derek's waist, his head tucked under his chin, and he could feel Stiles gripping his shirt from behind. Turning his head, so not to disturb them, he could see Scott snuggling against Stiles and felt Erica, Boyd and Jackson tangled up among their legs at the end of the bed. Sigh. When did this happen? Of course he didn't wake up when they came in, they smelled like pack.

Sigh. He hoped that this didn't become a habit. He didn't want him to start thinking of him as a softy. He could secretly admit to himself that it did feel good, surrounded by pack. They had come for the pack meeting, probably in through the window like he did, but found them sleeping instead.

Isaac mewed in his sleep, murmuring. Derek pulled the boy closer and hummed in his throat, soothing him. He was so comfortable and warm. It had been a long time since he had a bed to sleep in. He supposed the could let them rest for a while longer.

He let his eyes drift closed, comforted in knowing that he was surrounded and safe with pack.


	5. Chapter 5 A New Pack House

When Stiles awoke sometime later, the bed was empty but he heard chatter down in the kitchen. When he walked in to the kitchen, he was glad his father was taking an over night shift at the office because everyone was there; Derek was cooking at the stove, Scott was chopping something by the sink, Isaac sitting on the counter next to him, and the rest of the pack sat around the table. Stiles took a moment to admire Derek's backside at the stove top, before greeting the room.

"'Sup, my brothers," he rambled in a lazy drawl as he sauntered by to see what Scott was chopping.

The pack at the table continued to banter as if Stiles didn't even walk in. Jackson and Boyd were discussing, arguing really, about the fairness of werewolves competing in sports, namely lacrosse. Boyd was comparing it to athletes cheating with steroids, and Jackson was supporting the argument with using talents to the best advantage.

Stiles thought that was funny because earlier in the year, Jackson was pissed, thinking that Scott was using steroids. From the way Scott talked about it, it seemed like Jackson wanted Scott off the team. However, taking a moment to think about Jackson, now that he was a werewolf and he was kicking ass even more on the field, Stiles wasn't surprised that Jackson flip flopped and now supported the idea.

Scott was chopping up apples into huge, chunky slices, littering the counter top with jagged cores and apple seeds. You would think that cutting an apple into slices would be an easy job with an easy clean up, but for some reason, Scott was really butchering the apples.

Stiles slid up to Derek at the stove top.

"Grill cheese?! My favorite! Thanks Derek!" Stiles bumped up against Derek's arm, like a friendly nudge. He didn't know Derek knew how to cook anything. Man, you learn new things every day.

Derek turned his head with a jerk, snapping his teeth, as if to bite Stiles.

"Whoah, whoah," Stiles threw up his hands in defense, and back pedaled quickly, bumping into Isaac's legs. He would have fallen down but Isaac's hands shot out and steadied him.

"Jeez, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he grumbled, rubbing his elbow that bumped into the cabinet but stayed there, standing between Isaac's legs. Isaac graciously widened his legs a little and Stiles was able to slide right in between them.

Hey! It was comfortable enough that Stiles didn't want to move just yet, what's the big deal?

"Maybe he's just grumpy because he had to sleep next to you Stillinski," Jackson threw in,

"What?!" Stiles squawked indignity, "Of course not! Right?" he looked to Derek and when he didn't say anything, Stiles said again, but in a smaller voice, "right?" Of course Mr. Grumpy Pants didn't say anything and only turned around to continue creating and flipping sandwiches.

Stiles felt a little hurt about that. He thought that they sort of bonded this morning before their nap. But you could never tell with Derek. Stiles sighed in resignation.

He felt hands on his shoulders. Isaac gave Stiles' shoulders a quick rub then pulled them back into his lap. Stiles let out a pathetic whine, and arched his back. He didn't look but he heard Isaac chuckle and in a moment felt Isaac's hands on his back again.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation of Isaac's clever and strong fingers rub in circles over his shoulder blades, vertical along his spine and horizontal over the tops of his shoulders. It felt deliciously good and Stiles let out a long, stretched out moan.

The noise in the room stopped and Stiles opened his eyes. Everyone, including Derek, was staring at him. Isaac's hands were stile on his back and Stiles whined.

"What? It feels good! I couldn't help it!" He supposed his moan did sound a little dirty, with the way he stretched it out, but, come on! He couldn't help it! This felt so incredibly good. He should have guessed that Isaac's long fingers could be used for something awesome.

Derek stared at both of them, eyes darting back and forth between Stiles and Isaac. Stiles didn't know what Isaac was doing but he knew his own face was red like a tomato.

"What?" he asked.

Scott was the first one to go back to what he was doing, shrugging it off, as if he was used to this type of thing from Stiles, and god knows he was. When Derek turned away, Isaac continued his wonderful, and greatly appreciated massage. Now, he just held back all the filthy noises he wanted to make, just in case it would make someone uncomfortable; Stiles was considerate like that.

When Isaac's fingers finished their magic, Stiles stepped away, throwing a casual, "thanks," over his shoulder at Isaac and got plates out of the cabinet. He gave one to Scott to put all the apple slices on and left the rest of the plates by the stove. The kitchen table only had five chairs so Scott left to grab two more. They would be really squished around the table but Stiles thought that it would still be comfortable.

When Derek was finished with his first round of sandwiches, he spatula-ed one on each plate and handed them around the the pack.

The first four plates were handed to Boyd, Erica, Jackson and Scott. Expecting the pack to dig right in, he was surprised when they left their food untouched on their plates in front of them. Stiles looked on with curiosity. What were they waiting for? They were hungry because even he could hear Erica's stomach growl, so it wasn't because they weren't hungry.

When Derek finished the second round, and everyone had a plate in front of them, they still did not eat. Stiles waited too, wondering what was going on. Must be a wolves thing, he decided.

When Derek lifted his food up, and took a big bit, everyone else around the table let out a big sigh, grabbing their food and eating it quickly as if they were starving.

Huh, so the wolves were waiting for their alpha to take the first bite. It was really similar to real wolf packs. Stiles had done a lot of research about this since Scott was turned and he learned that in a real wolf pack, the alpha always got to eat first. This meant that the alpha got all the delicious innards and organs, leaving the rest of the carcass to the pack. The wolves would eat in rank order, lowly wolves eating last, usually only eating the remaining scraps or licking the marrow from the bones. Luckily for them, they weren't fighting for rank over a deer carcass and could all enjoy their own grilled cheese sandwich.

Stiles took his own bite and stifled his moan. This was so good! Derek had used the sour dough bread in the cabinet and a combination of Swiss, Provolone and Cheddar cheese. The bread was grilled just to Stiles' liking, golden brown and crunchy. His taste buds had a jubilee in his mouth as he took another big bite and held back another moan. He was really surprised that Derek had created this master piece. It was such a perfect balance of each flavor, carefully melted and gooey between two slices of bread and grilled to the perfect crispiness. How can one man master this god-like skill? Hats off to Derek for creating this heaven in his mouth.

Stiles and the rest of the pack finished quickly and Derek got up to make more. Stiles couldn't wait for another.

The wolves chatted comfortably in his kitchen, Stiles joining in when he had something to say, which, admittedly, was quite often. They were debating if Batman really counted as a super hero since he didn't have a super power, but just really cool technology, when, as if a dog whistle was blown, all the wolves perked up and looked toward the door.

"Your dad's home," Scott informed him, as all the wolves quickly stood, as if to retreat out the back door.

"Stay," Stiles said, momentarily cringing because it sounded like a dog command and he knew how much Derek hated to be compared to a froze.

" I mean, he knows most of you anyway from school," sending his glances over to Derek, 'and others from previous arrest warrants,' he silently added, "and since we will all be hanging out a lot anyways, I would rather not lie to him. Might as well let him know that we're... friends," he hesitated on that word but it was mostly a normal word and would describe his relationship with maybe half of them. Jackson rolled his eyes though.

"We'll never be friends, Stillinski," Stiles powered through Jackson's interruption, knowing that his dad was about to come in and he didn't have much time to convince the pack.

"I mean, I know I'll have to lie to my dad about the important things but it would feel better if I didn't have to lie about everything. I want him to trust me," he implored with wide eyes, gesturing with wild hands.

"Plus! This way, we would have a place to meet besides Derek's house, you know, in case the enemy is watching his house. Somewhere that is unexpected and also protected, since it's also the house of the sheriff. We also have a working kitchen since all of you need to eat, and general luxuries that come with electricity," he internally cringed as he insulted Derek's house, and therefore, Derek.

Everyone, including Stiles, could hear Sheriff Stillinski slide his key into the front door lock. Some of the wolves tensed and moved to leave until Derek spoke up.

"Fine," Derek grunted. With Derek's agreement, all the wolves settled back in their chairs as the Sheriff key turned the lock and he entered the house.

Even though Derek had agreed to the idea, they were all nervous, like a bunch of shifty eyed teenagers on drugs, about to get caught. Stiles busied himself, chatting away about nothing, trying to alleviate the situation and pretend like it was normal to have a pack of werewolves in his kitchen. He was mostly just worried about how his dad would react to Derek being there.

"Stiles, I'm home!"

I'm in the kitchen with friends dad," he said as he popped his head into the hallway.

The Sheriff walked into the kitchen and stopped. Maybe he didn't expect there to be so many people. They watched him sweep his eyes over the crowd: Boyd and Erica sat close, Isaac, Jackson and Scott spread out on one side of the table, and lastly they landed on Derek. Derek still had his back turned and was acting so calm and cool, flipping grill cheese sandwiches.

"Uh," started Stiles, "yeah, so we thought we'd just hang out here for lunch," he trailed off when the Sheriff failed to look anywhere but Derek's backside. Stiles felt extremely anxious and was about to begin ranting about something, ANYTHING, when his dad spoke up again.

"Stiles, can I talk to you in the living room for a minute?" His dad asked the question while still staring at Derek. Uh oh. He knew what this was going to be about.

"Uh, sure, yeah," he said casually but his heart frantically palpitated in his chest.

"Please excuse my son for a moment," his dad said politely and the room echoed with "okays" and "uh huhs".

His dad led him to the living room to talk in hushed tones. He knew that the pack could still hear him. How fun and awkward this will be.

"Stiles, why is Derek Hale in my house?" Stiles cringed. He had certainly cut straight to the point.

"Uh, he's my friend?" Stiles even thought he sounded like he was lying so he rambled on, trying to come up with something. He was struggling to pull something out of a hat. "Boyd, Isaac, Scott and Jackson and I are on the team together... and uh, uh," he stammered until a light suddenly turned on in his head. "and Derek is helping up train!" He shouted, almost exuberantly.

He began rolling his idea along, "Yeah, I guess when he was in high school he was on the team too and pretty good. And he's agreed to help us practice sometimes after school and on the weekend," His lie was solid and it made sense too. Stiles felt so proud.

"Huh. But you know son, you and Scott accused him of murder... twice,"

"Right, wrongfully accused, you mean! Yeah, whoops, our mistake, bad lighting, couldn't see too well. Good thing he was exonerated from the case."

"Huh," his dad paused for a moment, searching Stiles' face, "and what does Derek Hale get in exchange for helping you practice lacrosse?" Oh. Stiles hadn't thought of an answer for that.

"I told you dad. He's out friend. We like hanging out... He doesn't mind helping us out in his free time," Stiles reasoned, trying to lie as simply as possible, makes it more believable.

"Okay..." the Sheriff reasoned slowly, "Derek Hale is your... friend," he said it slowly like he didn't believe him and hell, he was right, he barely believed his own story.

"Yes dad, he's my friend, they all are my friends and might be coming over more often, so please be friendly. And stop calling him Derek Hale. It sounds like your accusing him of something. Just call him Derek. Sheesh," At that, Stiles turned back around and went back to the kitchen. "There better still be a grill cheese for me," he muttered, knowing all the wolves could hear him.

And yes, when he came back in, Derek was sliding another sandwich onto Stiles' plate on the table. Stiles sent him a smile that Derek decided not to return, and began eating. The sheriff followed Stiles in and Derek handed him a plate too. Boyd gave up his seat for his dad and his dad nodded in thanks and sat down, beginning to eat.

Stiles moaned through a bite, so good, but remembered that he was suppose to be quiet with his appreciative noises, when everyone in the room, including his dad, turned to look at him. His dad has his eye brows raised, sandwich frozen on his lips. Stiles looked around, flustered but Scott and Isaac, (yay for friends who understand your ways,) continued eating after just a moment's pause.

"Did you know that grill cheese is my favorite? Yum!" he knew that everyone at the table already knew it was his favorite but he felt like trying to fill the silence. "I love the delicious blend of cheeses," another grateful moan past between his lips, and he saw Derek clench his jaw. Jackson and Erica were just silently laughing at him. "You are a grill cheese God! This is so buttery and just the right amount of grilled," he moaned again and all eyes were on him again.

"What?" Stiles questioned, "This is really good! I just want to show my appreciation to the cook! Thanks Derek,"...And then Stiles fast connecting mind realized what he said. Moaning when eating is okay, but some people moan for other reasons. He flushed, thinking about sex. Then blushed even harder as he thought about Derek and sex and all the things Derek could do to him. He cut off his thoughts before every wolf in the room knowing what he was thinking about. He swallowed and looked down at his food.

"I mean, uh, thanks for making lunch Derek," he said bashfully to his plate but stole a glance over to Derek.

Derek was scowling but gave a curt nod.

He was trying to play it cool but on the inside, he was choking with embarrassment and arousal. After lunch he would need to ask the pack to leave and he would go upstairs for 'Stiles time.' He would wanked himself off, thinking about Derek. Derek and his scowl, Derek and his rough handling, Derek shoving him down on the bed and taking him from behind. He had to cut himself off. He was getting carried away.

They finished the meal in silence and Stiles was surprisingly grateful.

"Thanks for lunch kids, Derek," he said pointedly, "have a good afternoon, I need to head back to the office," He turned to Stiles, "I'll see you tonight kiddo,"

Everyone ignored the Sheriff's pointed stares at Derek.


	6. Chapter 6 A Strange Week

On Monday, when Stiles was walking between classes, Erica sided up to him.

"Hey," Stiles fumbled out, surprised that she was walking beside him.

He knew that they were pack members and shared some sort of family-like bond, or whatever, but he didn't feel it as strongly with her as he did with Isaac and Scott, maybe because they never really hung out. She didn't really talk with him at school and now especially that she was incredibly, smoking hot, she tended to consider herself above everyone else, even compared to the spazy but awesome Stiles.

Her eyes slide over him but she chose to say nothing.

"Oookay," he fidgeted.

They walked in silence to his next class. She smirked, sashayed and glared at anyone who looked their way. At his classroom door, she leaned in and rubbed her cheek against his. She was gone in a whisper and everyone was left staring at him. He felt his face flush as he went in to find his seat. His reputation was altering with each minute that passed. He couldn't hear them, but he knew that people were talking about, how Erica and Stiles seemed to maybe be involved with each other. That's actually probably why she did it! She knew everyone was watching and she wanted to give them something to talk about. Well, geez, thanks Erica. His reputation was stained by her sauciness.

When he left the classroom, Isaac was waiting for him.

"Hey Isaac, buddy, what's up?"

"Nothing, I wanted to meet up with you for lunch,"

"cool, cool,"

Isaac swung his arm over Stiles' and leaned in to rub his cheek against Stiles'. Stiles could actually hear the whispers start.

_Hey, is that Isaac Lahey and Stiles Stillinski?! _

_Are they hugging? _

_Why are their faces so close together? Are they going to kiss?_

_Are they dating? _

_I thought they were just friends..._

_ Who do you think tops? Stiles or Isaac?_

_Actually I just saw Stiles doing the same thing with Erica. _

_Hottie Erica? No way! _

_Is Stiles dating both of them?_

_Is Stiles worth dating?_

_He must be..._

He sighed. Soon, someone else would be doing something even worse than he and he would be forgotten.

Isaac pulled away from his nuzzle, face red. He heard had obviously heard the whispers too.

"Just forget about them. They don't know. Who cares anyway?" Stiles encouraged. Isaac gave a thankful grin in return.

They walked their together, talking about classes and school work and what's on T.V. tonight. They got their lunches and sat at a table, across from each other. Stiles could still feel his classmates watching him but he chose to ignore them, much like he did with a lot of stuff in his life.

Scott joined them a little bit later with Allison. Scott gave Stiles a side hug, rubbing his cheek against Stiles' shoulder then turned and mostly just talked with Allison. In a few minutes, Boyd and Erica joined their table, Erica sitting next to him and Boyd across the table, next to Isaac.

"Hey guys!" Stiles cheered, "Look the whole pack is here! Oh, except Derek of course, and Jackson,"

Stiles whipped his head around, looking for Jackson. He spotted him surrounded by jocks a few tables away. Jackson was staring at the group. Stiles couldn't tell if he was staring because he wanted to come over and hang out, or if he wanted to dump his tray on Stiles' head. It was too difficult to tell at the distance.

They resumed eating and chatting. It felt good to banter and hang out with pack, even at school. He didn't know why all of them suddenly wanted to be around him, but it felt good.

When they got up to leave, they all, except Allison, took turns hugging him, even Boyd. It was turning out to be a strange day.

This strange pack behavior became a daily pattern. One of the pack members, sometimes even Jackson, would always find him in the halls and escort him to his classes. They sat together at lunch and would escort him to his Jeep at the end of the day. They continued to hug and nuzzle him, and Stiles decided it was a wolf thing. He didn't know why they were all suddenly so concerned for him, but it felt good none the less, to feel appreciated.

He started to look forward to seeing his pack mates. He would always have someone to chat with and he tried to remember to bring special treats in his back pack for lunch. They were getting pretty chummy, Jackson would even come and sit for a little bit, much to the surprise of his jock friends. Stiles didn't even care about all the outrageous rumors flying about school about their little gang. It was turning into a real Breakfast Club.

On Friday, when he and Isaac walked to his Jeep at the end of the day, Derek was leaning up against the driver side door. His own Camaro was no where to be seen.

The tee shirt he wore was a little small and clung to him like second skin. if he'd had an extra ounce of fat or a little less muscle, it would have looked stupid, but he was built very well and looked good. He had his black, leather jacket over his tee shirt and had reflective, aviator sunglasses on. He was rocking his bad boy look.

The students were pouring out of the front doors, flooding the parking lots and side walks. The teenagers ebbed around the three of them, like boulders in a stream, but he knew everyone was looking. Sigh, another thing for the high school population to gossip about.

"Hey Derek, what's up?" Stiles greeted.

"Stiles, Isaac," he nodded to them, "how has the pack been behaving?"

"Everyone is doing what you asked," Isaac replied

"What? What do you mean?" Stiles questioned.

"I told the pack to protect you at school,"

"What? Oh," Stiles was hurt. Yeah, he had thought it was a little weird at first, but he had really begun to like it.

"Oh! That makes sense now! No wonder! Jackson doesn't try to touch me with a ten foot pole," He was trying to joke but he still felt hurt.

Both wolves were looking at Stiles; Isaac looked really concerned, worried even and Derek had his eye brows raised; he couldn't see his eyes because of the sun glasses.

"Um, well, thanks for checking up on me! We're going to go home now," he finished with false cheer. He began to move around Derek to unlock the Jeep.

Isaac had his hand on his shoulder before he could take a few steps.

"Wait, Stiles. I would have still hung out with you even if Derek didn't say anything about watching you at school," Isaac was so intuitive about Stiles' feelings. How come he was so able to read him like a book?

"Really?" he asked in a small voice.

"Really," Isaac confirmed.

"Oh," and he beamed at both of them. "Great, well, can we go now?"

Derek nodded and moved away from the Jeep. He was about to turn and walk into the woods when Scott hollered across the parking lot that he wanted to talk with the pack, alerting EVERYONE who was still loitering around. Subtle, Scott, very subtle.

Like a syncrinized swim team, all of the different pack members melted out of the crowd and made their way over to where Isaac, Stiles and Derek stood. They stood in a loose circle, all facing their alpha. It looked like they were meeting their drug supplier.

Greetings were said and everyone came to nuzzle Stiles on his cheek.

Scott turned to Isaac.

"Hey, Isaac, mom's wants you to come over this weekend. We're redecorating your room and she wants you to help make all the decisions. I told her that you were sleeping over at Stiles', but she was really insistent, saying you should sleep over here too," Scott blushed, embarrassed that he had to impose something like this on Isaac.

"Uh, that sounds fine, but that means that Stiles would be left alone," his eyes darted between Stiles and Derek.

"Oh that's okay," Stiles reasoned, "I'm going to be at home all weekend anyway. I don't have any reason to leave the house,"

Everyone looked to Derek for the decision.

"Isaac can go to Scott's," he turned and looked to Stiles, "if you need to go anywhere this weekend, call one of the betas and they will go with you. Do you understand? Don't go anywhere alone," Stiles nodded.

"Yes sir!" he mocked, giddy with the anticipation of having the house to himself.

He could have some Stiles time in the shower and not have to worry about Isaac hearing or smelling him. That humiliating scenario happened on Tuesday and he didn't want that to ever happen again.


	7. Chapter 7 Saturday with Derek

It was Saturday and Stiles was all alone at home, no wolf on duty. He promised Derek he wouldn't leave the house... but he did need to buy groceries. Okay, he didn't mean to lie to Derek, and he suppose he didn't actually lie. He just forgot that he needed to buy groceries... badly. There was nothing in the fridge and nothing on the shelves, and unless he wanted to eat peanut butter sandwiches for the six weekend meals, he needed to buy more food.

He debated just going to the store without telling anyone, but if any of the wolves saw him, they would tell Derek on him and the last thing he needed was a pissed off Derek.

Maybe he could call one of the pack to escort him. That would be a safe choice. He scrolled through his contacts and found Scott.

He pushed call and put the phone to his ear.

_Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring ..."hi, it's Scott! Please leave a message!"_

Stiles hung up but called back quickly, thinking that maybe Scott had not seen the phone light up or maybe he was in the bathroom.

_Ring, ring, ring, - "hi, it's Scott! Please leave a message!"_

His hope was crushed under Scott's figurative boots. Scott had just hit ignore. Scott didn't want to take his phone call.  
He glanced down at his shopping list. He really needed to go if he was expected to do any cooking this week, especially since he never actually did the grocery shopping from last week.

He was suddenly in a crappy mood. He didn't need a wolf to go with him. He could handle it. Plus, he was just going to Safeway. No harm there, right? Well, except for what happened last time, but Stiles decided that was just by chance the hunter ran into him. Very unlikely to happen again. Plus, he would be careful.

Stiles drove to Safeway in his Jeep, parked, and remembered to grab the reusable bags from the back. What? He cared about the environment! But he mostly did this because the stores charge ten cents per paper bag. It was more cost effective to bring your own.

He shopped methodically, starting at the produce section and working his way through the isles to the deli at the other end. He was buying everything on his list plus more. With the wolves more frequently coming over, he was needing more food. They always seemed to be hungry.

Yesterday, he had nothing to feed Erica, and boy, was that a disaster. Her eyes turned golden with anger and she was growling. She had certainly been taking lessons from Derek. Sheesh. She didn't have to literally bite his head off when she was upset.

But it was a learning experience. he was going to make sure his kitchen was always well stocked for hungry werewolves.

Stiles was currently in the frozen section, trying to decide if he should buy chicken nugget dinosaurs. The nutritional information said serving size was about 4 dinos and the bag has approximately 10 servings. it wad obvious to him that the serving size wad probably aimed toward a child which had such a small appetite compared to a large, hungry, teenage werewolf's appetite. One bag wouldn't even be a meal for the pack. He shouldn't get them because of the quantity but the dinosaur shapes were so cute. He couldn't resist. He put the bag in his cart, then paused, reached in the freezer door and pulled out three more bags.

Stiles finished making all his choices and headed toward the front. He didn't even glance at the express lane, his cart was brimming with you go in the express lane, you're only suppose to have 15 items or less, sometimes he would cheat with 16 items or daringly 19 items but it was subtle, like an extra box of butter, or three or four more spices. It was easy to cheat and get by with the small stuff. No way in hell could he cheat with his extremely full grocery cart. Sigh. He would just have to get in an ordinary line.

His cart was not only filled with a large amount of fruits and vegetables, but also 2 gallons of milk, six boxes of cereal, yogurt, 3 dozen eggs, butter, an assortment of chips, pretzels and crackers, ice cream, tortillas, beans, hearty soups, juice and soda, popcorn, multiple jars of crunchy and creamy peanut butter (because he didn't know what people preferred), bread, deli meat, cheese, frozen and fresh meats, and LOTS of bacon.

He also splurged a little bit and picked up beef jerky. The packages were so expensive for such a small quantity, but he liked the stuff, so did his dad, and he would bet ten bucks that Derek and the pack would like it too. He was going to ask Derek if Derek could help him make his own jerky. He didn't want to buy the store stuff every time because of the cost. Might as well make your own, right? Especially since Derek could easily bring home a deer or rabbits.

He had tried to get lots of meat and carbs, knowing that the werewolves needed a lot of energy to live day to day, not even mentioning if they were in fights and needed to heal. Healing always made the wolves grumpy with hunger. He wanted to be extremely prepared, especially with the new threat lurking.

His transaction went smoothly. The clerk was definitely giving him weird looks. Why was the lanky kid buying so much food? It looked like he wad preparing for the zombie apocalypse.

His horde did cost a lot of money. It reminded him to also ask Derek about a grocery allowance. He didn't mind the pack hanging out so much at his house, in fact, he really enjoyed it, but the food bill was astronomically high, the Stillinski budget couldn't afford this for much longer.

He loaded the back of his Jeep up, pushed the cart back to the front of the store and was getting in his seat when his phone rang. Caller I.D. said Derek.

Oh Shit. Oh, -wait a second! Maybe he didn't know he was out! Maybe he was just calling to confirm something our ask a question. Stiles didn't always have to be in trouble. Yeah, no need to worry about nothing.

"Hello, " he answered the call.

"Stiles, " Derek spit out on the other end of the line, "where are you?"

Oh Shit, play it cool, play it cool, he practiced in his head, knowing that even though Derek was too far away to detect a lite through his heart beat, he could still detect truths, lies, anxiety and general emotion through the tone of his voice.

Uh, just at home, hanging out, " he said as casually as he could without sounding forced.

"I am at your home, " Derek grounded out through a clenched jaw, oh shit for real! "where are you?"

"uh, oh, er, Shit, I'm - I'm at the grocery store," he could hear Derek growl at his omission, but he continued, " See I really needed groceries. Since I didn't but any last week, cause, well, you know, and you guys have been coming over a lot and it's great but you guys eat a lot of food, and-"Stiles' run on was cut short by a poisoning loud roar on the line.

"Stiles! Shut up! Who is with you?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Which beta is with you?"

"Oh, er, no one, I mean, I'm alone, " another terrifying roar was hear through the speaker, "come home now," Derek sounded like he was about to shift.

"Okay! Okay! Sheesh, I'll be there in 10 min- " he heard a click and pulled the phone away from his face to look at the screen, Derek had hung up on him. How rude.

He thought about taking longer just to piss Derek off even more, like a little come back after being hung up on, but decided just to go home. Purposefully pissing Derek off was kinda like slamming a door in your dad's face, it felt really good but always ended badly for you.

Stiles tried to get home as quickly as possible, driving a little too fast, not stopping all the way for stop signs and peeling off the line as if hell was on his heels. In realty, hell was really waiting for him at home. Why was he rushing to meet hell? Oh right, because he promised he wouldn't leave his house without a wolf escort but defied Derek's word. He was in so much trouble.

Derek was sitting on his front steps but stood when Stiles hastily pulled into his driveway. Stiles rushed around the hood of his Jeep, as Derek strode forward to meet him.

Stiles had another explanation, another excuse on his lips for him when Derek pulled him into am unexpected hug. He was crushed to Derek's chest and held there as Derek hastily ran his nose over stiles scalp, jaw and neck. He ran his hands briskly over stiles body, checking for injury.

"Are you okay?" Derek s voice was hoarse.

Whoah, not what he was expecting.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine, nothing happened, I didn't meet any new hunters, " pulled back and stared into his face imploringly, "Uh, what's with you?" Stiles questioned.

Derek's face locked down, seriously stony features replacing his earnest look. He stepped back out of Stiles' space and glared at him.

"Why did you leave you're house without an escort?"

"I really had to buy food! You guys eat a lot!"

"So you don't want us to come over anymore?! Because that's fine! We can go back to meeting at my house!" Derek growled, barely holding onto himself. His eyes were already flashing red and his hands were clenched at his sides. Whoah, he really jumped to conclusions there.

"What? No! That's not it at all! I just really needed to buy food, " Stiles tired to reason without shouting. They were still standing in his driveway and he didn't want to draw attention to the two of them.

"But if we're such a burden, we don't have to meet here anymore, "

"No! No, dude, that's not what I meant. I want you here! I mean, I want the pack here! I like when the pack comes over," he hoped sincerity was coming off him in waves. God, way for Derek to get carried away.

Derek paused in his verbal attack, eyeing stiles carefully as his eyes changed back to green.

"Why didn't you call one of the pack to go with you?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand, as if he had a head ache.

Do werewolves get headaches? Stiles didn't think so. Derek must have learned that expression from humans since he most likely didn't need to massage a headache away.

Derek must save a lot on medical expenses, not only with doctor bills but he didn't have to buy aspirin or cough syrup or anything. He would ask about it later.

"I did, " at that Derek looked up again, incredulous obvious on his features, "I called Scott, " a low rumble began in Derek's chest, "but he hit ignore,"

"What?" Derek replied in a dangerously low voice.

"Uh, I know because the first time it rang, like eight times, before going to voice mail but but second time I called, it only rang a few times before going straight to voice mail, " Stiles felt a little silly explaining this to Derek but he was kinda pissed off about what happened too. It felt good to vent.

"Scott, your_ friend_, " Derek sneered out that word, "ignored your phone call knowing that you may be calling for help?"

"Uh, "was all Stiles could say.

"You're _friend_ ignored you even after I told all the betas to watch out for you?"

"Er, yeah,"

"I'm going to kill Scott,"

"Wait, wait, back up there. You don't really need to kill him. He must be hanging out with Allison,"

Derek gave him a look.

"What if you were calling because hunters were chasing you? What if you were calling because you were trapped somewhere? What if you were hurt?!" Derek's voice ascended for each question. His frustration was punctuated when his claws elongated and eyes changed to crimson.

"Sheesh! Oh my god, Derek!" When he put it like that, Stiles agreed with Derek. Scott could have at least picked up the phone and told him that he was busy, or sent a quick text. What if he had really been in danger?

"Pack always comes first, Stiles. Always. I understand that Allison is pack too but Scott needs to be more considerate about _everyone_ in our pack. I don't want a clumsy, foolish wolf doing what he wants when it can endanger the pack,"

"Even human members?" Stiles asked quietly, he had his hope clenched tight in a ball inside of him.

Derek paused, his eyes cautious.

"Especially our human pack members. Always," Stiles closed his eyes for a minute, breath exhaling in relief, "And with these new hunters, we have to be very careful; they already have you on their radar,"

Well that made sense to Stiles, but he was so surprised that such logic came out of Derek's mouth.

"Uh, yeah, that makes sense, " he said stupidly. Now he felt stupid for going by himself. He had endangered the pack.

If the hunters had gotten him, no one would have known where he went. The hunters could have easily taken him against his will and used his weakness against the pack. God, he was the weakest chain link. He was so stupid.

"Why didn't you call me?" Stiles was still thinking about how stupid he had been that he thought he misheard him.

"Uh, what?"

Derek gave him a raised eye brow look but repeated the question.

"When you couldn't reach Scott, why didn't you call me?"

"Uh, I didn't think that was an option. And I didn't want to bother you,"

"But it's my job as the alpha to protect all pack members,"

"That's right. It's a _job_. You don't want to spend time with me. That's, like, last on your list," Derek had this unreadable hurt look on his face but it was gone in another moment.

"You should have called me, " Derek insisted.

"Oh, okay. Next time I will," Stiles felt thoroughly ashamed, "...Thanks Derek,"

On a dangerous whim, Stiles stepped into his personal space and gave him am awkward hug. Derek's whole body immediately stiffened but surprisingly, he didn't push the boy away. After a few awkward seconds, stiles felt Derek arms come around him and hold him securely. He also felt Derek sniffing and rubbing his face into his hair. Stiles sighed in contentment.

A thought came suddenly: Derek had been worried about him. That's why he was so upset when he came home. He was worried that something had happened to him. The thought warmed him and he smiled into Derek's chest.

He pulled back and both young men stepped back into their own space again.

"So!" He said with cheer, "can you help me unload the groceries?"

Derek and Stiles were in the kitchen, making dinner. They weren't expecting any pack over, but just in case, they were making a lot. If they didn't eat it, Stiles could eat it tomorrow for lunch.

Stiles had ended up asking Derek to stay for dinner after he helped him unload and unpack all the grocery bags. Plus, Stiles didn't really know where Derek usually had his meals; the Hale house certainly didn't have an operating kitchen available for use.

After finding the grocery receipt in one of the bags, Derek told Stiles that he was going to order a second credit card, same number, but in Stiles' name so he would use Hale money to feed the Hale pack. Derek said it was only fair, and Stiles really was surprised that Derek was being so considerate and reasonable, because come on, how often was Derek reasonable?

Derek was also delighted to find the beef jerky. _Yes,_ he told Stiles, they could also start making their own jerky.

_From Bambi and Thumper and other innocent, unsuspecting woodland creatures? _

_Yes, Stiles._

They ate dinner and even watched a movie afterwards. Everything seemed so... normal.

As they were cleaning up, Stiles remembered that he had some errands he needed to do tomorrow, but Isaac wasn't come back until Sunday evening.

When Stiles was walking Derek to the door, he asked him.

"Derek, um, I actually need to go out again tomorrow. Just a few quick errands," he shuffled his feet and looked away, "can you go with me?" he felt embarrassed but didn't know why.

"Sure," Derek answered easily. Stiles jerked his head up in surprise.

"Great, thanks dude," he knew he sounded relieved, hell, he _was_ relived, "thanks for staying to hang out,"

Derek nodded and left.

Once he was gone, Stiles found his leather jacket.

Huh, well, he will return it in the morning. He hung it on his computer chair and got ready for bed.

Stiles wondered how Derek could have even forgotten the jacket. He always had that jacket with him. His scent was probably burned into the leather... His thought lingered on that one for a moment, but then jumped with a more terrible thought.

Didn't he need to jacket to keep him warm tonight? Did Derek even have a bed with blankets? What if he just relied on his jacket to keep him warm? And now he didn't have a jacket? What if he got cold tonight? What if he froze?

Now Stiles was really worrying. He tried to reason his thoughts out.

But if the jacket is so essential, Derek would have surely returned to get it once he realized he didn't have it. Right? So if he hadn't returned, Derek can do without it for one night. But just to be sure, Stiles sent a quick text to Derek, letting him know that he had the jacket and would return it tomorrow.

Conscience cleared; now he could finish his evening routine.

After he changed into his sleep clothes, he walked out his bedroom door, purposefully passing the jacket, and trailing his fingers over the shoulders.

When he was brushing his teeth, he walked back into his room and looked at the jacket, fingering the hem and the sleeve.

When he turned off his bedroom light, he gave into the temptation; pulling the front of the jacket close to his face, he breathed in deeply. He hummed his appreciate for the scent. It was a combination of cool leather and Derek's own personal spicy musk smell. He could never forget what Derek smells like, it was completely unique to him, and it smelled so good. He spent another moment running his nose over the collar and inseam, sniffing in the goodness. He paused to laugh at himself. He's been spending way too much time with werewolves.

He dropped the jacket back onto the chair and got into bed.

He snuggled down deep in his blankets and closed his eyes, praying for sleep to come. Last night was the first night he slept alone in a week. He had treated himself to "Stiles time," and fell into an exhausted slumber.

But tonight was different. He wasn't able to pace his breathing to match Isaac's. He tossed and turned, never getting comfortable. He even tried getting himself off to relive some tension, but he couldn't get himself in the mood.

God, what was up with him?

He spied Derek's jacket and thought, why the hell not?

He slipped out of bed and pulled the jacket on. It settled on his shoulders, heavy and cool, but Derek's scent invaded his nose and surrounded him with comfort. It was now a smell he associated with feeling safe.

He didn't know when he stopped being afraid of Derek, (at least thinking that Derek was out to kill him. He was still a scary dude, especially when he was angry). It must have been a slow build up because it couldn't have happened instantly. He knew that although Derek had a frightening appearance and composure, he had saved Stiles' ass more times that he could count. He couldn't be a bad guy if he was constantly saving him.

The jacket was too big on him, the sleeves going far past his wrists, but he didn't care. Derek's scent was comforting.

He lay back down under the blankets, still wrapped in the leather. He closed his eyes and tried sleeping again. _Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale_ and he was asleep.


	8. Chapter 8 Those Reckless Hunters

Derek pulled up in front of the Stillinski house in his black Camaro. Damn it was bright out. He slide his aviator sunglasses on to avoid the glare.

He waited on the sidewalk, leaning up against the passenger side door. He could hear the teenager inside the house, thumping around, his heart beat loud and steady.

In another minute, Stiles was out the front door, locking it behind him. He was glad to see Stiles taking action to keep him and his house safe.

Stiles wordlessly handed his jacket to him. He slipped it on and froze, widening his nostrils. He could smell Stiles' scent all over it. Like Stiles had put it on, but much more than that.

The scent was infused in the leather, blending Stiles' delicious vanilla scent with his own personal scent. It was surprisingly intoxicating and Derek closed his eyes for a moment, pulling the collar of the jacket up to his nose and breathing deeply.

Did Stiles do this on purpose? It was going to distract him all day.

"Stiles," Derek hissed.

Although Stiles' face was annoyingly blank, Derek's nose gave him all sorts of information on what he was feeling: embarrassment, shame, guilt, anxiety.

"Stiles, what did you do to my jacket?" he took a menacing step forward and, like a practiced dance, Stiles took one back, flinching. His heart was beating like a cornered rabbit.

Derek 's eyes went wide and he took two steps back. He didn't mean to frighten the boy to death. He just wanted to know why his jacket smelled so strongly of the teenager. He wasn't really angry, just surprised. Did Stiles actually think that Derek was going to be aggressive with him? He paused. Yes, of course that's what Stiles thought. Derek has been anything but gentle with the teenager and now he was afraid of him. His wolf whined at the thought.

Derek slowly removed his sun glasses and folded them to hang from the V on his shirt. His green eyes captured the boy's and he carefully and slowly moved to lean against his car. He was making sure to make no sudden movements. He wanted to show that he wasn't a threat and it seemed to work.

The boy clutched his letters to his chest, his breath slowing down from the frantic pant. Guilt rolled off Stiles in waves.

"I, um, I, well, I-" Stiles stuttered and shuffled with nervousness, "I was having a hard time sleeping, sooo Isleptinyourjacket," his explanation rushed out. He looked over to Derek, expecting red eyes, but Derek just had an amused face.

"Is that all?" he joked. He was relieved and actually kind of delighted. But it made sense to him.

Obviously Stiles was still new to the pack and didn't trust his instincts but Derek understood immediately. All pack members, including humans, took comfort in scent. It was often the case that pack members would sleep together, plontically, just to be comforted in knowing that everyone was safe.

Stiles was getting used to having a pack member sleep (at least in the same room; the thought of them actually sleeping together made Derek's stomach feel uncomfortable) with him and it was jarring to suddenly be without. Isaac was pack, so knowing he was there, and maybe even having his scent on his blankets was comforting. In Isaac's absence, Stiles had been sleeping alone. It was a difficult transition. Derek understood.

"Oh, well, um, I actually thought you were going to be angry, you know, with me wearing your jacket, and all,"

"Don't worry about it, my scent comforts you," he smirked, turning on his heel and going to the driver's door. He could hear Stiles sputter behind him.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Stiles was shadowed all morning by Derek. He could almost hear Derek grumbling in his head and feel the death glares, of which he chose to ignore. He was the one who wanted to supervise Stiles. He had to deal with all the errands.

He had to withdraw some cash from the bank, pick up his dads uniform from the dry cleaning shop then go to the post office.

On the last errand to the post office, Stiles tried to convince Derek to just wait in the car.

"But Derek," Stiles whined, "come on, I'll only be gone for a few minutes,"

"I'm coming in with you. Who knows what will happen in there," he clenched his jaw and added, "you might knock something over or something,"

Stiles sent his own glare over to Derek but relented.

The stood in line for three minutes. Stiles chatted away and pointed out the different envelopes, stationary and decorated boxes someone could buy. He liked all the options.

"Wow! Look at these cool super hero invitations you could buy!"

"They're for children," Derek only glanced at them.

"What? No, you don't know that,"

"It's in front of the princess invitations and next to the Mickey Mouse invitations,"

"Oh... Well, that's okay. I would still use the super hero invitations. Look, it has Superman, Spiderman, Batman, Iron Man, Green Lantern... but where's Wonder Woman?" He pointed to each character, thinking he missed her behind someone.

"She's a girl," Derek replied evenly.

"I know, duh,"

"These invitations are designed for little boys so the artist isn't going to include Wonder Woman because she is a girl,"

"What? That is so sexist of you! Everyone knows how awesome Wonder Woman is!" Stiles was ready to defend Wonder Woman to the death.

"Yes, but no little boy is going to want to see her on his invitation card. Human children are being gender programmed too early,"

"I like Wonder Woman and I'm a guy!" Stiles felt indignant.

"It goes way beyond that Stiles. Even from infants, babies are given gender specific colored blankets and outfits to wear. Think of all the toys children play with, dolls, tea sets, and miniature kitchens verses trains, cars and action figures. Humans are being set up for their role in society even as children. It's like that book, Brave New World." Derek was using a tone Stiles had never heard him use before, almost imploringly.

"Wow, that was a lot for you to say," Derek huffed and turned his body away from Stiles.

"No, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, well, I did mean it, but I didn't mean to say it aloud. Uuum, I didn't realize you cared so much about gender stereotypes and all that,"

"It governs our society and impacts us all," he replied stiffly, clearly wanting to end the conversation.

"I agree," Stiles said tentatively. "I agree with you. If parents would lay off stereotyping genders, the world might be a different place," Stiles was surprised that they agreed on something, usually Derek and Stiles disagreed on everything. It was a strange feeling.

It was a stranger feeling to talk about something more serious with Derek. Yeah, they talked seriously with werewolves, hunters and other big bads, but they never really had a real conversation about real issues, like society and gender roles.

He was going to turn and say something and probably ruin the moment, but the line moved forward and it was his turn to walk up to the counter. Derek followed on his heels.

Everything was taken care of and they were back out the door. In was about mid-day and he was hungry for lunch.

Stiles was walking across the street. Maybe he forgot to look both ways or maybe the driver thought he could make it before Stiles got to the middle of the road. Whatever the reason, he was halfway across the street, when out of his peripheral vision, he saw a white, unmarked van careening toward him.

It swerved, looking like it was purposefully trying to hit him. Then he felt the van, or maybe the air current, push against his body before he was pulled back, off balance and into the arms of Derek, like a cheesy romance movie.

The van swerved again then sped up, hastily turning the corner, tires squealing.

Lots of people were screaming and shouting, but at the moment, the noise sounded fuzzy, like he had cotton stuffed in his ears. Stiles read about and watched a lot of movies where this happened to victims in emergencies but right now, he didn't care. He didn't try to rationalize what had just happened or explain it with a hypothesis; he was really shaken up and for a minute, he was going to allow himself to be upset.

He could feel Derek's arms around him. His back pressing again the fine planes of Derek's chest. He closed his eyes and let the feel of Derek ground him. He took a shaky breath and turned to face the werewolf.

Everything was coming back into focus. He could see Derek's mouth moving, and as he watched, like un-muting the TV, he could hear Derek.

"What is you problem? Can you go now where without getting in trouble?" Derek was shouting and Stiles flinched at the tone.

He looked livid but he was still griping Stiles' shoulders, as if he believed that if he let go of Stiles, Stiles would float away, or disappear or get hit by another car. It was a strong and painful grip.

Stiles was hoping for some TLC but obviously this was the wrong person to go to for that. He angrily pulled out of Derek's hands.

"It wasn't my fault!" he frowned, annoyed that Derek was once again, being unreasonable. "What? What? Do you think I plan for these things to happen to me? Come on Derek," Yup, he was pretty exasperated.

"And thanks for asking me if I'm okay. I'm a little shaky but I'll be okay," his response was heavy with sarcasm and with the look Derek was giving, Derek knew it too.

They stood starring at each other until a middle aged woman came up to him. She touched his arm.

"Are you okay?" Stiles broke eye contact with Derek to instead look at her.

"Um, yes. I'm okay, thank you for asking," he sent a pointed glare over to Derek. "My friend is just about to drive me home so I'll be okay," he gave her a tired, shaken smile. He turned back to Derek when the woman walked away.

"Come on, drive me home," he turned from Derek, made sure to look both ways and crossed the street to the Camaro.

People were still standing around but once they saw the two men get into their car, they began to disperse.

They drove in silence for a few minutes when Stiles spoke up again.

"Don't you think it's odd that a white van tried to hit me?"

"No, actually, I think it's completely normal that you almost got hit by a car. I'm surprised that he didn't happen sooner in your life time,"

"Har har, Derek, very funny. I'm being serious. Listen: it was a van that didn't just make a close call, trying to move around me on the road; it really seemed swerved, as if to hit me. And the van had painted windows and a sliding door. Us young people call that a kidnapping van,"

"What?" Derek asked in a seriously hushed voice. The tone surprised Stiles and he looked over at the man.

"I've been crossing streets for 10 years. I've never ever once had a problem of being hit. Most people in Beacon Hills don't,"

"What are you saying," Stiles could hear Derek tightening his hands on the steering wheel, the leather creaked under pressure.

"I'm saying that it's a possibility that those were hunters, waiting for an opportunity to kidnap me,"

"Hmmm," was all Derek said.

"Derek! This is serious! If my theory is true, the hunters just tried to nab me, even with you there! This means, this means-" he wanted to say that 'this means that he would never be safe,' but he couldn't even form the words. If he said it aloud, it meant it was true. He really didn't want it to be true.

"This means that they are reckless. Hunters who are reckless make errors," Derek gave a predatory smile.

He liked Derek's answer better.


	9. Chapter 9 Quesadillas

Derek chose to stay for lunch. He invited the whole pack over, or really, Stiles invited everyone over, promising he would make something good for lunch. All the wolves were down with that.

Scott arrived first with Isaac, then Boyd, Erica came and lastly, Jackson. Scott asked to play video games while Derek talked to Isaac privately in the backyard.

Stiles wished for werewolf hearing to listen in. Why did Derek insist that they had to make it a private conversation? What were they talking about? He felt like a teenage girl, the ones always think that those people across the room are talking about him, whispering and pointing. Ha, who was he kidding, that was him all the time at school, but luckily he didn't give a rat's ass about what other people think.

Scott and Stiles sat on the couch together, battling each other in video games. Jackson, Boyd and Erica hung out too, watching the game.

The bantered back and forth in good fun.

"Ha! Boo yeah! You've been Stillinskied!"

"Oh really? Psssh, please! I'm going to whoop your ass!"

"What? With your weapon choice? Unlikely. You can't even score ten points with the lance,"

"What? Yes you can!" Scott sounded offended.

"Why are you running away then?" Stiles retorted.

"I need ammo,"

"Excuses!" Stiles shouted with glee.

"Really!"

"Really? Because it doesn't even seem like you're trying,"

"Take that! K-cha!"

"K-cha? Like from Cars?"

"What? I like that movie," Scott's tone was defensive.

"Yes, that's why you are a cute puppy," Stiles cooed, trying to tickle Scott.

"Do you guys always play like this?" Piped in Erica.

"Like what?" both of them replied at the same time.

"Um, with crazy comments and bickering?" she supplied.

"Um... I guess?" Stiles said that like a question. His character was chasing after Scott's character and he was trying to concentrate.

"Well, it's cute," she replied.

"No, it's stupid. You both are so stupid," Jackson sneered. "Let me know when you want to battle against a real champion. I would whoop your asses every day till Sunday,"

"Ha! Doubtful!" Stiles replied, "I am a master!"

"That's because you haven't been playing against real competition,"

"Hey!" Scott interjected, "I resent that!"

"It doesn't matter Jackson. They're having a good time. Let them play," Boyd said. Boyd doesn't speak much, so when he does, everyone listens because he has something worth while or important to say. Quite the opposite of Stiles really, Stiles speaks all the time, two thirds of it unimportant so no one really listens to him.

"Aw, baby, that's nice," Erica's words were sugar as she rubbed his back.

"Fine," Jackson sneered, "Fuck them and their stupid game, I don't really care anyways," he turned away from them and started using his smart phone.

When Isaac and Derek returned, Stiles quickly looked over to both of them, not caring to pause the game. Scott was in a different part of the battle complex so he didn't need to worry about Scott sneaking up and killing him.

Derek had his serious face and Isaac looked worried. They both found places in the living room, Derek sat in the recliner and Isaac on the floor next to Stiles' feet.

Derek was the only one in the pack to sit in the recliner and Stiles had asked Isaac once why that was.

_"Because it's your dad's chair,"_

_"So? My dad doesn't hang out with us so why should it matter?"_

_"It smells like him and we all know it belongs to him," _

_"But that doesn't explain why no one sits in it," Stiles was confused. _

_"Uh, er, well, it smells like your dad... and your dad smells like, um, authority, almost like an alpha," Isaac gestures with his hands, opening and closing his mouth. "It's really hard to explain. For us it just makes sense; it's all about the scents. It's your DAD's chair and his alpha-ness keeps everyone from going against him. If I sat in the chair, I would feel like I was doing something bad, like I was going to be caught and punished because I'm just a beta,"_

_"Okay, so dad's chair smells like his and you don't want to disrespect his "alpha-ness," right?" Stiles used air quotes._

_"Yeah," Isaac sighed with relief._

_"And if you did sit in it, it would seem like you are doing something bad,"_

_"Yes," Isaac affirmed._

_"So how come Derek sits in the chair?" _

_"Derek is the alpha," Isaac said as if that explains everything, it didn't._

_"So?" Stiles asked._

_"Derek is alpha and your dad is kinda like the town's alpha... so they are on the same playing field. Derek is allowed,"_

_"Oh, okay, that makes sense. Thanks for explaining it to me,"_

Scott and Stiles' game was a close win. Stiles wasn't going to brag or anything but he won.

"Hey, I'm going to make lunch. Boyd, do you want to play?" Boyd had been watching the game so Stiles wasn't surprised when he agreed.

Erica got up from the couch to help Stiles in the kitchen. Isaac asked if he needed more help but Stiles think they would have it covered so the rest of the pack stayed where they were.

"Hey-ya Erica, how are you?"

"I'm okay. This hunter thing has me on the edge though,"

"Yeah, me too," Stiles agreed.

Stiles was frying quesadillas on the stove top. Some had just cheese and butter; others had cheese, chicken, cilantro and pico de gallo. Erica was getting out chips and chopping fruit.

"What have you been up to this weekend?" she asked casually.

"Uh, actually I've just been hanging out at home, chilling. Yesterday I went to the grocery store and today Derek picked me up to do some errands. It's been quiet and nice,"

"Right? I know! I had the same sort of weekend, hanging out with Boyd and watching movies and shit. Like an ordinary teen girl!" She turned and grinned. Of course doing something ordinary would delight her; she yearned for ordinary and boring her whole life. Stiles smiled back, delighted in her own happiness.

When Erica was first turned into a werewolf, she was nasty and rude. She still shows her claws when she feels like it, but when they are hanging out together at the house, just the pack, she opens up. She is sweet and fun to be around. He wished she would act more like this at school, but maybe he really didn't want people to know how awesome and down to earth and cool she really was; she would have way more friends and maybe wouldn't hang out as much. Yes, he was a little selfish, but okay with it.

"What movies did you watch?"

"We decided to watch the Batman trilogy with Christian Bale,"

"Awesome! I love those movies!"

"Right? I know! Plus they are so good when you watch them all in a row, like, six hours of kick-ass action and suspense,"

"Oh my gosh! I know what you mean! It's like a caffeine placebo! I get on such an action high!" Stiles could have bantered with Erica for hours but the smell of burnt tortillas drew him back to his task.

"Oh shit!" he flipped the blackened, crispy quesadilla and turned on the stove fan.

"Stiles! Don't burn the food!" Derek shouted from the living room. Noisy wolf could probably smell the burning.

"What? Do you want to come in here and take it over?" Stiles retorted back. He snorted but internally promised that he would keep vigilance for the rest of the frying. One burnt quesadilla was okay, but he didn't want to have to only eat burnt ones.

Leaving the stove for only a moment, he went to dig in the fridge for more left overs to include in the quesadillas. He found some left over steak, cut that up and put that in a few of them. He decided to save them for Derek. Sucking up? Maybe.

The table was set, Erica put out the fruit and chips and Stiles was just placing the quesadillas on a platter, the steak quesadillas on Derek's plate.

When Stiles shouted that lunch was ready, he laughed when he saw Scott and Jackson scramble over each other to get to the kitchen first. Jackson pushed Scott out of the way to round the couch first, but that's when Scott decided to hop over the couch, balancing one hand on the back of the couch while his legs sailed over to the other side. Jackson's open mouth, sputtering expression was hilarious. Isaac was laughing opened mouthed, curls bouncing, Boyd was had a faint smile on his lips and Derek only rolled his eyes as he took his assigned seat.

After a few meals at the Stillinski house, the pack began sitting in the same seats. Derek always sat at the head of the table. Stiles would sit on his left, Scott then Isaac. Boyd at the foot and Erica and Jackson on the other side.

As everyone was settling in their assigned seats, bantering and joking back and forth, Derek looked at the quesadillas on his plate. He could smell that his contained steak while the ones on the platter in the middle of the table only had chicken. He sent a surprised, appreciative look over to Stiles but the teenager missed it because he was talking excitedly with Scott on his other side.

Derek scooped some chips and took a few pieces of fruit for his place. After he took his first bite, the rest of the pack hurried to fill their plates and began eating hungrily. They ate in silence only to comment on the food.

Derek thought Stiles preened like a fucking bird with all the praise. Derek thought everything tasted really good too but he wasn't going to go and feed Stiles' ego.

Erica, Isaac, Scott and Stiles went into the living room to hang out after lunch while Derek, Jackson and Boyd cleaned up the kitchen. They all squeezed onto the couch, which ordinarily sits three, but because the werewolves have no personal space, they were able to squeeze four, snug and fit all together. Stiles sat wedged between Isaac and Erica with Scott on Isaac's other side. All their limbs were folded under and on top of each other. It was like four soft pretzels pressed together, arms and legs intertwined.

Erica started up an easy conversation with the three of them.

"How was your weekend, Isaac?" Erica asked as she ran her fingers over Stiles' scalp. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, enjoying the sensation.

"It was good. I was at Scott's and helped his mom decorate my room,"

"How did you decide to decorate it?" Stiles asked, curiously. He always thought Isaac would like cool colors opposed to warm colors.

"I choose, like, a forest green paint for the walls," he replied shyly.

"It looks really cool!" Scott implored. "The color is great!"

"Yeah," Isaac added, "I, um, chose the green because it was a good color, really calming," Isaac sounded embarrassed.

"That's great Isaac," responded Erica. "I'm so glad you found a good fit," She continued to scratch her human nails over Stiles' scalp, running from his neck up to his forehead and back down. He wished he would purr to show his appreciation.

"Yeah, when I came home on Saturday, I thought it looked great. Mom even had us pull some of the old furniture up from the basement, you know that dresser Stiles? The one with the dark wood? It looks great," Stiles opened his eyes with confusion.

"What do you mean, when you came home on Saturday?" the tone of his voice was flat, alerting everyone that he was suddenly on edge. Erica stopped her scratching and pulled her hand back into her lap. He could feel her body tense under him. There was no noise coming from the kitchen.

"I went to hang out with Allison on Saturday," Scott said leisurely, oblivious to the sudden tension. He continued on, excitedly bouncing in his place, "We got to hang out all day! We went to mall and then to the movies. Dude, it was best!"

Stiles looked to Isaac. His head was hanging, crestfallen. It was obvious that he knew that Scott had gone out on Saturday, leaving him and his mom, potentially in danger, they were still under orders to stay in pairs.

"What?" said a dark voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Derek standing there, seriousness cloaking his facial features.

"What?" he echoed back, "I went out with Allison. What's the big deal?" he retorted.

"The big deal is that you left Isaac alone when I specially told everyone to stay in pairs, especially if you were to go out of the house," Stiles cringed at that because he was guilty of that too.

Derek's voice was poisoned with anger, his words clipped as he visibly fought to control his wolf. The pack swiveled their eyes between Derek and Scott, but Isaac still hung his head, arms crossed over his chest. Derek moved a few steps forward. The pack could feel Derek's hot anger, it made them all bow down in fear of what was coming.

With surprisingly gentle hands for an angry alpha, Derek reached forward and touched Isaac's crown, running his fingers over Isaac's hair and petting him. The reassuring caress brought Isaac's head back up and Stiles squeezed his arm. Derek dropped his hand and turned again to Scott.

"Also, while you were galloping around town with your girlfriend, Stiles called you and you chose to ignore him," All the wolves scented the acidic smell of anger rolling off of Derek. They tensed, feeling sick.

All the wolves quickly looked to Stiles who took his own turn to bow his head in embarrassment and a little bit of fear.

Stiles was clenched for his own reasons. His friendship with Scott might have some serious repercussions after this because Scott would be really pissed that Stiles had told Derek.

"So, because you chose to ignore his call, Stiles went to the grocery store... alone," he punctuated the end, growling his displeasure.

"What?" replied the whole pack. Scott's head shot up, looking stricken.

"God, Stiles, I didn't know!"

"Are you okay?"

"What happened?" They all murmured and spoke their concerns while at the same time, giving Scott dirty looks. Erica rubbed his arm soothingly and Isaac in turn, leaned heavily into Stiles, resting his head on his shoulder. Even Boyd and Jackson rounded the couch, sitting against Stiles' legs.

"I'm okay," he murmured into his chest, embarrassment blooming in his chest.

"Did you see her?" Isaac quietly asked.

The room hushed to hear his response.

"No, she wasn't there, or at least I didn't see her and she didn't approach me. I made it back here fine. I'm okay," he reassured Isaac and the rest of the pack, bringing his head up and looking everyone in the eyes, even Scott. Scott looked devastated.

"Thanks for being a jackass McCall," Jackson spit out.

"I'm sorry! Okay? I'm really sorry Stiles!" he held his hands up, "I thought you were just calling to, ya know, be you! Er, what I mean is, I just thought you were going to talk on and on about something," he paused. Ouch, that hurt. "Uh, wait, this isn't coming out right," he stumbled.

"So let me get this straight: you saw him calling but you chose to ignore him because you thought was he going to be annoying?"

"Yes!" Scott proclaimed triumphantly, then, "wait, no, I mean, not the annoying part, just the first part and, ugh," The more Scott tried to explain, the worse Stiles felt.

Stiles sighed, suddenly suffocating with the pack pressing in so close. He sighed and untangled him from everyone, pulling himself up from the couch and standing in front of everyone.

"Stiles, I'm sorry!" Scott implored again, "I didn't know and I'm sorry,"

"It's okay, no biggie," Stiles attempted to look uncaring and fine with the whole thing. His insides twisted though. Derek raised his eye brows, most likely knowing that Stiles was lying, that stupid lie detecting werewolf.

"I'm going into the kitchen to get a snack," the room stiffened. Stiles didn't know why they reacted that way until he was standing with the fridge opened. He had forgotten that they just finished eating lunch. His excuse was blown. Oh well, he was done with this shit.

After he pouted in the kitchen for a few minutes, he went back into the living room to find the pack spread out over the couch and floor, doing their homework. He was surprised to see that Derek was still here, reading in his dad's recliner.

Stiles got his backpack and wiggled down, squeezing between Jackson and Isaac. Scott sent him a hurt look because their was plenty of room next to him. He was still pissed at Scott so the big boy had to deal with it.

Isaac and even Jackson shuffled a little to make room for him.

First he worked on chemistry, helping Jackson and Isaac too. He knew Scott was going to need help but he wasn't feeling generous right now; he would only give help is Scott asked, and he would have to use "please," god dammit.

Everything was all really easy to do, just busy work for him. Even with all the werewolves and supernatural shit going on, he was able to work and keep his good grades. Some might say he is under-challenged and that's why is he acts up, talks back and is always in detention; they clearly are not the ones on the 'in' about the werewolves, otherwise, they wouldn't give him a hard time. But even so, it must make his dad look really bad: even the sheriff cannot keep his kid out of trouble.

After a while, pack members shifted, getting up and moving around and soon he found himself next to Scott.

He rolled his eyes but stayed silent, a big deal for him. Scott must have been scooching slowly over so they could be next to each other. He probably tried to do it sneakily, scooching inches at a time, like a hurt puppy that wanted reassurance. The image made him crack a smile and he glanced over at his best friend.

Scott was looking at him too, with a small, tentative smile on his lips.

Rolling his eyes again in exasperation, Stiles shoulder bumped Scott. All was forgiven - mostly. Scott beamed back, delighted to be back in his good graces. He was like a puppy.

Scott's emotions were like a child's, always really extreme; either devastatingly sad or ecstatic. Currently, he was gleeful and beaming, practically bouncing in place. Stiles almost expected Scott to ask for a hug or pony ride.

Then his mind wandered for a minute.

Stiles wondered if Derek could give them pony rides, or maybe it would be better to call them, wolf rides. He could shift all the way into his complete alpha form. Stiles had only seen it once or twice and it was when Derek was preparing for battle. Would Derek mind it if Stiles sat on his back and rode him around like a pony? Yes, he probably would.

Then his mind wandered again. He started to think about riding Derek in other ways and he felt his face heat up in arousal. Stop thinking about Derek.

Stop thinking about it! Stop it! he chanted to himself, knowing full well that the werewolves would be able to smell him, or maybe they already did! How mortifying! Think of something else! soggy Cherrios, grandmas, mail men and their dorky shorts, wrinkly old men, smoker's teeth, homework... and with that grounding thought, he turned back to finish his homework.

When his dad came home at 4pm, the pack started cleaning up and heading out. Derek got up to stretch, his shirt clung to his frame and Stiles chose to not look anymore. Oddly enough, Isaac was also packing up and leaving with Scott.

"Hey! Wait a second, Isaac, aren't you going to stay here? You know, stay in pairs...?"

"Um, er, no, I'm going back to Scott's house,"

"What? Why?"

"I'm staying here tonight instead of Isaac," Derek interjected in a 'no argument' tone

Stiles sputtered, "What?! Why?!"

"I've already talked with him about what happened today and although I'm doubtful, I want to make sure nothing happens to you. Isaac may not be strong enough to fight off trained and experienced hunters, I am. Your part of the pack and we don't need you to be taken. That would complicate matters."

Stiles didn't like that Derek said, 'don't _need_ you to be taken,' rather than 'don't _want_ you to be taken.' They way Derek said it, it made it seem like a business transaction, like it would only put a hiccup in Derek's schedule. Stiles just frowned, hurt at Derek's casualness.

"Fine," Stiles huffed and Derek rolled his eyes.

"I'm leaving, but I'll come back right before bed," Derek explained.

Stiles' stomach twisted with something. He felt nervous, and excited and fearful, all at the same time.


	10. Chapter 10 Just Sleeping Together

Stiles was sitting at his computer, researching if there were such things as weretigers, werelions, and other were-animals from the stories. Mostly he was coming up with nothing, except for reviews for Charlaine Harris and Sherrilyn Kenyon novels. A shadowed figure appeared in his peripheral vision and he jumped, failing his arms and falling on his ass.

When he looked up, he saw that it was only Derek.

"Derek! Fuck!" he barked, "what is your problem?" he was so irritated. "Give a guy some warning!"

He got up and shrugged into his chair, feeling uncomfortable that Derek was just standing there, looking around the room.

"Pfffff," he ran his palm over his scalp, "I guess it's time for bed, eh?" he began to tidy up his desk, leaving his notes on top of the stacked books.

Derek noticed the rumpled blankets on the floor next to the bed. They smelled like Isaac. Derek sat down on the edge of the bed and began unlacing his shoes. He pulled them off and lined them up against the wall. He shrugged out of his jacket and took off his shirt but left his jeans on the be modest.

Derek could hear Stiles' quick intake of breath. He watched Stiles from under his eye lashes as he slipped down underneath Isaac's blankets. Stiles was watching him, his mouth gaping and his eyes trailing over Derek's chest. His heart beat sounded frantic.

Derek closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, "you'll turn off the lights, right?" he questioned from the floor. When he inhaled he smelled Isaac lingering on the blankets; it reminded him of pack and comfort, but he also could smell Stiles, and the strong fragrance of arousal wafting off the teenager. It was god damn distracting. How was he suppose to sleep with the arousal pheromones wafting around? It didn't certainly calm in down. It actually wound him up. His eyes were closed, but he heard Stiles lick his lips.

"Uh, yeah," Stiles stuttered out, "yeah, no problem," Stiles stood, turned off the lights and went into the bathroom to change for bed.

Stiles wondered if he was going to grow immune to Derek and his god damned, fucking fine body. He was always embarrassed about how he reacted. Couldn't he catch a break? But the gods look unfavorably upon Stiles and allow him to be flustered and embarrassed. Shit. At least Derek had his eyes closed and wasn't able to see him staring and turning red.

When Stiles returned to the room, he got into his bed, wondering if he would ever be able to sleep while Derek was on the floor. He listened to Derek's steady, slow breathing and sure enough, he was asleep.

VVVVVVV

Derek returned every night to sleep in Stiles room and the school week proceeded like normal. Stiles would have a normal school day and a surreal night with Derek in his room.

He would come in through the window about the time Stiles was getting ready for bed or afterwards, creeping in quietly, and was always gone when Stiles woke up. It was almost like he was never there, except for the rumbled blankets on the floor and wet towel hanging on the hook behind his door.

It surprised him when he saw the towel for the first time. How did he take a shower without running into his dad? Or wake him up? Did Derek change in the bathroom or did he come in here and strip his towel off, most likely in his amazing naked glory and then get dress? Hm, let's not think about that.

Stiles thought about bringing up an air mattress from the camping supplies for Derek but how would be explain that to his dad. Maybe he could tell him that he's recently been rolling off the bed and it would be something soft to land on. Oh my gosh, what if Stiles really did roll off the bed and land on Derek? How mortifying.

VVVVVVV

Derek sneaked in through the window. It was well past midnight, Stiles was already in bed and from the sound of it, in a deep sleep. He had been coming every night to sleep here and there had been no attacks on his life. He didn't know if the hunters were just bidding their time or if they weren't attempting to kidnap him because they suspected or knew that he was sleeping in the house with Stiles. Derek was relieved even so. But this sleeping pattern was uncomfortable.

The floor was hard, even with blankets folded underneath his body. It was much better than sleeping in the cold train depot but at least he had a mattress there.

He rolled over, uncomfortable on the floor. Fuck. This wasn't working. He sat up, rubbing his forehead, completely frustrated. He could try to sleep in the chair, but not well. Even with his healing, he would still feel like he had a crick in his neck all tomorrow.

He eyed the extra expanse of the bed. Stiles was curled up on his side on the far edge of the bed, back to Derek. Even though it was a full size bed, Stiles was on the far side, leaving enough space for Derek to use. He sighed with resignation and rolled his eyes. It beat sleeping on the chair or on the hard ground. Plus, Derek would be awake and gone before Stile woke up. It was decided then.

He slipped between the covers but froze when Stiles shifted, murmuring in his sleep. Stiles settled down in a moment but Derek didn't relax until Stile's breathing returned to normal.

Stiles awoke when he felt too warm. His pillow was too warm; he was a guy who liked his pillow cool. He opened his eyes, blinking the bleariness of the them and bit back a startled cry when he realized he was lying half on top of Derek's naked chest, his own pillow stuffed underneath him.

Oh my god! Derek is shirtless! and god, he is so firm and muscular, and so warm... Focus Stiles! Why is Derek in my bed? Stiles was freaking out, panting and shifting his eyes across Derek's face and naked chest. Thankfully Derek remained asleep. Stiles blushed profusely when he realized that the man has one arm wrapped around Stiles' back.

Stiles began to pull away but Derek tightened his grip, pulling Stiles in closer, making his body almost flush with Derek's. Not wanting to wake Derek, especially if it meant Derek tearing out his throat of something, the jackass, he settled back down, lying down, not on Derek, but scooching down next to him. This way he wouldn't be so warm.

He took a moment to reflect the irony of the situation. Derek who never says too much or stays too long, had his arm securely wrapped around Stiles' backside, sufficiently holding him close. It was surprising, but once he settled down and closed his eyes for sleep, it felt... nice. Derek was warm and his embrace made Stiles feel safe and protected. In all honesty, it felt a little too good. It was comfortable and made sleep even more inviting.

The next time Stiles awoke, the other side of the bed was empty. He would have believe last night to be a dream except that when Stiles rolled over and pressed his face in the second pillow, he smelled a warm, spicy musk, Derek's unique scent that made Stiles' insides clench with... something.

VVVVVVV

Derek returned every night to sleep with him. Stiles would go to sleep alone in his bed but would sometimes wake up during the night, usually because he would be so fucking hot, to find Derek here, usually snuggling. Knowing that his own personal heater was going to be in bed with him, he stopped sleeping in his sweat shirts and sweatpants. He started using tee shirts and cotton pajama pants so he wouldn't over heat.

When Scott had asked midweek why Stiles was always smelling like Derek, Stiles was so embarrassed and guiltily admitted to him in private, _and if you tell any of the pack, or god forbid, Derek, I'll be so mortified and then Derek will fucking rip my throat out,_ that maybe they were snuggling. Scott shrugged with the news, not finding it to be as big of a deal as Stiles thought it was.

The way Scott talked about it made it seem like they felt safe and warm, protected, comforted, loved, when with pack. They took comfort in being together, being close. Maybe that's why Isaac always cuddled with Stiles. Stiles was part of the pack and Isaac took comfort when he was close to him or the others.

One night however, Derek did not come. he sent a text instead, saying that he was out investigating a new lead but Isaac was going to come over instead. Stiles felt an unusual stab of disappointment at the news.

Stiles wondered if Isaac could smell that Derek had been sleeping in his bed, but the only indication he gave was when he went to sit on the edge of the bed, his nostrils widening for a moment. Hopefully Isaac just thought it was normal that Derek's scent was on his bed, or generally in his room. He had been sleeping here for almost a week now.

When Isaac lay down on the floor to go to sleep, Stiles started to feel bad. He allowed Derek to sleep in his bed and he didn't like the guy but he was going to let Isaac, his best friend, sleep on the floor?

"You can sleep in the bed with me, if you want," Stiles offered. He was curled up on his side, back to Isaac, "I don't mind," he added.

"Okay," Isaac replied.

Stiles could feel the bed shift as Isaac got in. For a few moments the sheets rustled, but then it was quiet again.

"Do you mind that Derek has been watching over you?" startled, Stiles looked over his shoulder at the other teenager.

Isaac was lying on his back, one arm tucked under his head.

"What? No, why?"

"I dunno, I just thought I would ask. I would think as a human, it would be hard to understand what pack feels like,"

Stiles rolled onto his back and thought for a minute before answering. This was Isaac he was talking to, not Lydia or Erica or Jackson; he would try not to be offended by his word choice, he continued to doubt his place in the pack and it didn't help when someone said something like that.

"To me, pack feels like having six best friends, or being with your closest family, the ones where you always feel comfortable around them and you never have to use words to talk because you know each other that well. I know I don't feel that way with everyone, but I know it will come with time."

"What about Derek?" he questioned.

"What about Derek?" Stiles was confused.

"What do you think about him, you know, as the alpha?" He had to be careful with this one.

"I... I respect him, and... I trust him," the minute he said that, he realized it was true, he did trust Derek, even though he was scary. Scary but on his side. Boo yeah.

"That's good, me too," he replied quietly.

"He just frustrates me all the time, you know? He'll come to me for advice and I'll tell him something, then he'll go off and do the complete opposite. It's so frustrating! Why does he even ask if he knows he'll never take it?" Isaac was quietly chuckling beside him. "What? What's so funny?"

"That's exactly how he feels about you! He tells you something but you never listen!"

"What? I do to listen!"

"Name a time, one time, you listened to our alpha,"

"Uuum," he searched and searched his memory. Why couldn't he think of anything? There had to be at least ONE example.

"Um, I don't know," he was glad the lights were off because he felt crimson.

"See? See?" Isaac sounded gleeful. "I don't think you listened to his advice even once!"

"But, argh, the sourwolf makes me so angry sometimes! He's always telling me what to do and he's always trying to leave me behind!"

"But that's because he's worried and about you and wants to keep you safe," Isaac reasoned, "you're only human after all, so fragile,"

"Gaaah, back to the human excuse. You know, I'm tougher than I look," he protested.

"Yes, you are tough Stiles but compared to us, you seem so frail. He wants to keep you safe but he gets so frustrated that you never listen to him. Not only is it rude to ignore someone who is trying to help you, but completely, ridiculously offensive for a pack member to disrespect his alpha. His wolf fights him all the time, wanting to put you in your place,"

"How do you know this?" he inquired, doubtful that Derek talks about his feelings to the pack.

"I'm a wolf remember?" Isaac teased, "I can smell his emotions and I understand instinct,"

"I just thought he didn't like me," Stiles confessed.

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Um, his general disgust and anger toward me..." he shrugged.

"I think that's Derek's general disposition, he's like that with everyone. Plus, if he didn't like you, he wouldn't be here every night with you. He's worried, haven't you noticed?"

"No, he doesn't really talk with me,"

"You know, if Jackson was in trouble, or Scott even, he would just assign one of us to stay with him. He wouldn't stay with him," Isaac reasoned.

"But is he staying because I'm human?"

"Hm, maybe, but Stiles, come on, even if he begrudgingly was watching over you, he would sleep on the floor or in the chair. He would not sleep in the bed with you,"

"What? What? What do you mean?" His voice hitched, trying to hid with ignorance.

"Oh please," Isaac joked, "I can smell him all over your bed. He's been sleeping in the bed with you, don't even try to deny it," Stiles was embarrassed. He hoped Isaac wouldn't talk to Derek about it because he might stop sleeping with him.

"It's okay Stiles," Isaac spoke up again, sensing Stiles' unease. "We're pack, that's what we do. It's really comforting to sleep with pack. Remember our puppy pile from a few weeks ago? I think that's what packs to all the time so it's probably normal for Derek to sleep with you,"

Isaac made it seem so casual, so maybe it was an ordinary thing. For some reason, thinking it was an ordinary thing, that Derek might do it with Scott, or Erica, Boyd or Jackson, made his stomach clench. He didn't want to talk about Derek anymore; it was making him feel weird.

"How does the rest of the pack feel about me? I mean, they know I'm part of the pack, but do they accept me?" his voice was quiet, vulnerable and he tried to lighten the mood, "haha, you know, accept me as much as they can. I know they all think I'm really weird,"

"They like you Stiles... you're pack. Like you said, they feel like your part of their family, even if they might think you're weird, but they don't, not really," Stiles blew air out in disbelief.

"Even Jackson?" he asked doubtfully.

"Yeah, even Jackson. The thing is, even though Jackson didn't like you before, he's a werewolf now. He may pretend to not like you, just to save face at school, or because he's insecure, but you're pack, which means your family,"

"Oh,"

"In a way, we're all weird, we all have our faults, but pack always accepts you, no matter how different or insecure or damaged you really are,"

"And look, we're led by the king of damaged," he mused. It was no wonder that Derek was such sourwolf; he had been dealt and extremely back hand of cards.

"But he's a good alpha," Isaac almost sounded prickly, like he thought Stiles was being a hater. "He keeps us all safe,"

"Yeah, he does. I didn't mean anything about what I said. It just makes me sad sometimes how miserable Derek is. Once you see past his angry, grumpy, permanent sourwolf face... you can see his guilt... and his sadness," his voice was soft.

It was a chilling to remember that Derek was alone in the world. He had his pack, but that's all. Stiles still had his dad and relatives and other people in his life. He wasn't alone like Derek was. Just thinking about it made Stiles' heart ache. Did anyone ever thank Derek? He worked so hard to keep the pack together and to keep them safe but did anyone ever thank him? Or were they all ungrateful teenagers? Stiles felt chilled.

He would try to remember to thank Derek the next time he did something nice. Or maybe he would give him a hug. I bet it's been a long time since he had a real hug. Maybe that's why he was always grumpy, he had minimal pack touching and no reassurances. From what Stiles was beginning to understand, werewolves were all about the contact, the cuddling, the subtle touches, and always being around or near each other. He was a really young alpha with a motley crew pack who don't now how to deal with their instincts. He must feel so lonely.

Instincts, that's what Stiles was getting in trouble with. He obviously didn't have the wolf instincts and it was driving Derek's own wolf mad. Stiles fought him every inch of the way, in arguments and in decisions, and then he always went out and did exactly what he wanted, even if it went against Derek's word. Boy, Isaac was right. He was a terrible, disobeying pack member. He fought so hard to be included in the pack, but now, he won't even act like pack.

"What could I do to..." Stiles tried to find the right words, "to not anger Derek's wolf so much?" When Isaac didn't respond right away, he wondered if he was still awake.

"You could try and follow his directions..." Stiles began to protest but he cut him off, "I know you are very independent and smart and have a lot of opinions, but Derek is always thinking about the option that will keep us all safe, or the option that will have the least amount of damage. It is beyond rude, completely utterly offensive for you to purposefully disobey the alpha,"

"Fine!" Stiles sighed noisily, "I'll try not to disobey him... as much. It's going to be really hard but I'll try,"

"Good," Isaac sounded like he was laughing, damn him, "also, when we have meals together, we let him take the first bite. That is complete instinct, Derek never taught us that,"

"Yeah, I noticed that and I've been trying to do that too,"

"Um, sometimes when he's angry, my wolf, you know, my instinct, tells me to roll over on my back to expose my belly and neck as a sign of submission. Or even just tilting your head back to show him respect. I've done it a few times and he gets really quiet and almost content,"

"Okay, that's weird but okay. So I'll bare my neck when he's angry. What does that mean by the way?"

"It means that he's stronger and more powerful. He would go to either of those places if he wanted to kill you, so it shows him that you trust him. Your life is literally in his hands, or jaw, really,"

"Um, dude, yelch! And what if Derek decides to bite me? Like he is so angry that why I bare my neck, he decides to kill me?"

"He won't, or at least, I don't think he would," he didn't sound too sure which was worrisome.

"Um, that's for that vote of confidence, I feel so relieved," Sarcasm was his friend. He thought about bearing his neck to an angry Derek and he wasn't sure he would be able to do it. It would be scary.

"I'll... I'll try it," Stiles promised, voice faltering with all the horrible possibilities going through his mind.

After wishing Isaac a good night sleep, he turned over and tried to go to sleep. He hoped he wouldn't have nightmares again.

He did.

_The huntress chased him through the woods, he kept looking back and tripping. It felt like he was running through thick glue, he feet moving slowly, never getting away from her, her fingers snatching the material of his sweatshirt. He could hear her tinkling laughter echoing through the woods. It sent shivers down his back. She was going to catch him and she was going to hurt him. _

_He blinked and he was in a warehouse, surrounded by the dead. He tried to not look closely, but he was able to see Isaac's curly mop, Scott's open eyes, dead and staring and Derek in his leather jacket. His pack was here, murdered and strewn on the floor. _

_She was whispering to him, telling him nasty things about how she cut up his friends, slowing, letting them almost heal, before doing it again and again. She told him how they suffered, howling and crying. She told him how they were raped, again and again, before they were put down like dogs. _

_He struggled and screamed when she stepped in closely with her knife._

He was being shaken awake, he swung his limbs out, clawing at his attacker and screaming.

"Stiles, Stiles!" his attacker said, it was Isaac. He stopped struggling immediately and relaxed into the bed. He wondered if his dad had heard him screaming. Then immediately following that thought, he wondered if his dad was even home.

"Shit," his breath shuddered out of his body, "thanks dude,"

He fell back into an uneasy sleep.

Another nightmare followed.

_His pack was tied up, chained to the wall. Stiles couldn't see or feel his body but he watched her electrocute them, again and again. He blinked and he was now the one holding the electrocution wand. She guided his hand and made him do it. He fought, trying to pull away, trying to push her but she only laughed. Stiles screamed, begging her to stop but it was to no avail. He watched himself kill his friends, they snarled and snapped and fought. They shouted profanities and wished he were never in the pack. _

It hurt and he woke up sobbing, Isaac shaking him awake again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed.

Isaac pulled him close and tried to comfort him.

"You're okay, I've got you, it's okay, your fine, your fine," Isaac murmured, pulling him in close and tucking Stiles' head under his chin. Stiles fisted Isaac's shirt, not letting him pull away, needing to know that it was just a dream, a fucking dream, messing with his darkest fears.

Stiles' ear was pressed to Isaac's chest and he fell into an exhaustive sleep, not waking again till morning.


	11. Chapter 11 A Lesson in Scent Marking

He tried to mask his exhaustion with false cheer but the exhaustion was creeping into his attentiveness at school, his ability to focus and to do his homework at night. He was more jumpy than usual and didn't have the energy to keep his guard up. He didn't talk about it because he didn't want to use it as an excuse or a handicap. Luckily Isaac didn't breech the subject either.

Instead, whenever Stiles woke up, screaming or tangled in his sheets, Isaac would move over and hold Stiles until he fell asleep again. Neither boy talked about their nights, it wasn't something to talk about because they both understood each other without words. Isaac willingly gave out comfort and Stiles graciously and appreciatively took the comfort.

Derek was busy every night. He thought he had found a pattern or a link and he spent his nights pursuing them. Although Stiles oddly missed Derek's presence, he was able to keep his nightmares a secret; he didn't want to give Derek another excuse why he was a weak human.

Sometimes Derek was able to make it to dinner though. Stiles always wondered where Derek would eat. He didn't have a kitchen and he didn't look like he ate fast food all the time. Stiles continued to invite him over for dinner because he felt bad about Derek's situation. Derek didn't seem to mind the invitation either. Sometimes it would just be Isaac, Stiles and Derek, while other nights, his dad would also be able to come over. His dad was getting used to Derek and was even maybe a little bit pleasant toward him. It was starting to feel cozy, habitual, like a family.

VVVVV

Stiles was cooking sitr fry in his new wok when he heard a clatter from behind him.

"Aahh!" he shouted, pivoting and chopping his wooden spoon down, like a ninja.

Derek was frozen at the cabinet, four plates in his hands.

They looked blankly at each other for a moment, until Stiles shouted his protest.

"What the hell man? Why are you always sneaking up on me?" he waved his spoon around in the air to emphasize. "I mean, really? REALLY?"

It was probably his own damn fault though, increasingly sensitive to noise, startling at the smallest things. But he wasn't going to tell Derek that. Instead, he was going to mask his despair with his dashing wit and charm.

Derek only stared for a moment, blinked then resumed what he was doing. He pulled the plates down and gently put them in front of the chairs on the table.

"Wait a second," Stiles slashed the air with his spoon, "are you setting the table?" Disbelief was evident in his tone of voice.

"Yeah," responded Derek with a shrug.

"Oh. Oh, well, thanks,"

Stiles watched wordlessly as Derek crossed the room twice; the first time to pull down drinking glasses, and the second time to retrieve cutlery.

He swelled with something that felt like... something, he wasn't sure what, but it felt good.

He turned back to stir his veggies when he heard the oil and pop and fizz, hiding his smile.

"So, Derek, how are you?" his dad asked, trying to be polite.

"I'm well, thank you,"

"You guys seem to be training a lot for lacrosse. How does that seem to be going?" Stiles tensed, it sounded like he was being friendly but he was the sheriff, he always had an agenda. He griped his fork as his eyes darted between Derek and his dad.

"It's going well. They're really improving their agility and speed," Derek seemed completely at ease, completely unaware of what's going on, but knowing him, he probably was faking it. Derek always surprised Stiles at how well he could pretend. Pretend to be charming, pretend to be nice, pretend to be considerate. It always shocked him but there was no doubt, he was putting on a front to charm the pants off his dad.

"I see. And what have you been doing besides training my son and his friends?" that was a pointed question.

"Dad," Stiles whined, "What's with all the questions?" why did he have to interrogate him? It was hard enough to get Derek to hang out, outside of pack meetings, he hoped his dad didn't scare the alpha off.

"Nothing Stiles, I'm merely curious and trying to be friendly," he turned to Derek, "Do you have a job?"

"Uh, no sir, not right now. I'm still trying to get my finances in order,"

"For a whole year?"

"Actually, when I first returned to Beacon Hills, I was really busy with personal problems," Stiles cringed a little, mostly his fault about that, "Now, I'm still wrapping things up with the hospital from when Peter was there... and also tying loose ends with Laura's estate," Derek sounded casual but Stiles could see his whole body clench with tension, his hand on the table, fisting with white knuckles.

"Oh," Now everyone at the table felt guilty. Derek looked down at his food and began eating again. Stiles felt the uncontrollable urge to rub his hand over Derek's fist. Luckily, he was across the table with Isaac; good thing too, his dad might not ever let him out of the house or near Derek ever again if he had weird behavior like that, especially toward an older man.

The rest of dinner continued without a hitch. Dad was talking to Isaac about school while Stiles interrupted to add his input about teachers and assignments. Stiles tried to engage Derek in conversation but it was mostly Stiles talking, while Derek just sat there, only nodding occasionally.

After dinner, his dad went into the living room with a glass of whiskey. Stiles watched him go, crossing his arms over his chest, feeling sick; his dad was drinking tonight, it meant that he was extra stressed, maybe from his job but most likely because of Stiles. Stiles tried to think of a reason why his dad would be worried about him.

"It's okay, Stiles, he'll be alright," Stiles jumped, crying out. Isaac had moved to stand next to him.

"Er, sorry about that. You startled me," he confessed guiltily. Isaac's brow furrowed with concern. He put his hand on Stiles' forearm, rubbing it gently.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,"

Stiles released his tension with a heaving sigh.

"It's okay. I've... I've been jumpy lately," he explained.

"Why? Oh, wait. Is it because of-" Stiles cut him off with a look.

"No, it's nothing. Don't worry about it," he didn't want Isaac to mention it in front of Derek. The alpha was looking back and forth between them with suspicious eyes. They both shrugged innocently and turned to finish cleaning up the dishes. Derek continued to watch both of them.

Stiles walked Derek to the door, bidding him a, "have a good night, dude," but grabbed his sleeve before he went out the door. Before Derek could give him a dirty look for grabbing his jacket, Stiles slammed his body into Derek's, wrapping his arms around his middle. He could feel Derek stiffen, but in a moment, he was relaxing, swinging his arms up to hug Stiles back.

Stiles pressed his face into his shoulder which allowed Derek to bend his head forward and rub his face in Stiles' hair. He could feel Derek rub his cheek against his scalp. He turned his face and Derek rubbed his stubble across Stiles' cheek and jaw. It tickled but also started a burning flame of arousal deep in his belly. He tried to ignore the arousal as much as he could.

He tried to remember that this was just another werewolf thing. But it was curious because none of the other werewolves did it to him, only Derek. Maybe Derek was the only one to do it because he was the alpha? Stiles didn't know and at this moment, he didn't care.

He kept his arms wrapped around the man for a few moments and released him.

He pulled away and smiled, looking for the first time into Derek's eyes. There was an indescribable emotion on his face but it was gone when Isaac walked into the hall. When he saw them in an embrace, he politely turned away. The moment was broken though, Derek's mask slid into place. He said his good byes and left.

VVVVV

It was the weekend again and everyone was in the living room, the television was on but nobody seemed to be watching it. Everyone was moving around, switching seats, hanging out and getting snacks; soon Stiles found himself sitting next to Derek on the couch.

Stiles lazily leaned his head back then looked over at Derek.

"Derek? How come we haven't had any real big problems from the hunters yet? I mean, they've been in town for weeks but they haven't tried anything yet. Did they change their minds?" Derek turned to look at him, pausing to eye the creamy expanse of Stiles' neck, stretched out beside him.

"They probably have been watching us, waiting for the best time to kidnap you or attack us,"

"Well, gee, that's reassuring," he joked

"Do you want me to treat you like a child and keep it from you instead?"

"Uh, no, that would be way worse," he reasoned.

"Your smart Stiles," he warmed at the compliment, "I don't want to treat you like a child. I want my whole pack to know the situation so they are ready to act at any moment. I would be a bad alpha if I didn't tell you what's going on," everyone had their attention on Derek. It was one of his more expanded thoughts ever said aloud so it signified that it was important.

"Okay," he paused, then added, "thank you," he rolled his head to the side, pulling his limbs with him until he was curled up against Derek's side, his head on Derek's shoulder. Derek grumbled but Stiles felt his arm come around and hold him close even still. Stiles smiled secretly to himself.

He closed his eyes and listened to the murmurs around him. Minutes later, he was jostled as Isaac came to sit on his other side on the couch.

"Isaac!" he called. As he rolled over to face his curly friend, he felt Derek lift his arm. He leaned in close and nuzzled against Isaac's neck. Isaac started laughing, pulling his chin down.

"This is how you do it, right?" Stiles laughed, rubbing his cheek against Isaac's jaw. "This is what you guys always do, right? What's it called again? Oh yeah, scent marking," he giggled as Isaac tried to push him away, who was also laughing, "Isaac, I'm scent marking you!"

"Stop it, stop it," Isaac laughed but Stiles wasn't taking him seriously, he was laughing too much. He could see the others watching on with amusement, Erica and Scott laughing out right, Lydia grinning evilly, Allison giggling, Boyd smiling and Jackson looking like he was pained.

"Nooo, I want you to smell like me, That way, even when you're alone, you can think of me," Stiles felt Derek get up from the couch. Stiles heard Jackson make a choking sound.

"Stillinski! Too much information! I don't want to know what Isaac is doing with his free time," Jackson sneered.

"What? What did I say?" Stiles really didn't know what Jackson was talking about. Scott looked flustered, but still, Lydia looked down right evil, like she was plotting something.

"Um, er, yeah, Stiles you said you want him so smell like you... so when he's alone, he can think of you?" Scott informed nervously, as if he were asking a question.

"What? Dude! Why is your mind always in the gutter?" he was appalled, but couldn't blame them, sometimes his mind was only in the gutter too, especially around sourwolf, and turned to look at Isaac, "you knew what I meant right? I just want you to remember that we're bros," he explained.

"Yeah, I know," Isaac smiled, "don't worry about it,"

"Yeah, thanks," he lightly punched his arm, "of course you would get it. I just thought all you wolves like the scenting thing, you know, smelling like pack,"

"Dude, what are you talking about?" Scott looked bewildered.

"Oh, actually Derek explained it to me once," Isaac mentioned, "when you have a pack, smelling like pack calms our wolves,"

"Yeah, I get that," confirmed Boyd.

"Yeah, me too," Erica included, "whenever I smell Boyd, I get relaxed and comfortable,"

"That's because you're fucking him," Jackson retorted, snorting.

"No, jackass," she said quickly, then added, "well, maybe partly, but also the pack thing like Isaac said. Like if I sit next to Stiles at lunch, I can... smell him," they all knew how weird that sounded to someone who was not used to werewolves but they were definitely growing up, because none of them made a snarky remark or funny face at that, "and sometimes he smells like Isaac or Derek, and I get so comfortable and relaxed, because they are all like... home," she said 'home,' like she was surprised, startled that such a strong feeling could come from a smell.

They all sat around and thought about that for a minute until Stiles leaned in, sneakily rubbing his face in Isaac's neck. When he felt satisfied, he looked up at everyone.

"Who's next?" he received a chorus of laughter in response.

He sneakily moved around the room, kneeling and rubbing his face in everyone elses face and neck. He felt silly really, but he wanted to make sure everyone knew he was pack. Most squinted their eyes closed and tolerated it. Jackson recoiled so fast and dodged all his head weaves. He never got to scent Jackson. Erica was the complete opposite; when he knelt next to her, she pulled him down to the floor, dominating the scent marking. If he wasn't laughing so hard and if he didn't know Erica so well, he might have felt a little used.

Isaac abandoned the couch while Stiles was making rounds so when he returned to sit down, he was all alone on the couch.

He snuggled down on the cushions and pulled out his novel. He was trying to reread Catcher in the Rye, remembering he had liked the book when it was mandatory for school a couple of years ago, but finding it extremely boring now. The main character, Holden, seemed to mostly just complain about his life. Stiles knew now that Holden had it easy, he didn't have to deal with werewolves, wendigos, hags, giant Venus fly traps, hunters and strange herbs and poisons. Damn, Holden had it good and he has to shut the fuck up and get over his incredibly boring life.

He was at the scene where Holden was checking into the run down hotel when he felt the couch cushions sink. He looked up and Derek was back.

"Your turn," he grinned as he put down his book. He knelt on the cushion for leverage, leaning forward as Derek looked alarmed, recoiling just as Jackson had done.

"Now, Derek," he tsked, "hold still," he fisted Derek's shirt and leaned in really close, dragging his cheek across Derek's cheek. Steadying himself with a hand on Derek's shoulder, he rubbed his face along Derek's cheek, jaw and neck, taking his sweet, little, old time.

He didn't know what Derek was thinking because he was frozen in place. Finally he released a long breath and settled back into the cushions. Stiles made a delighted sound in this throat. He smoothed over the fabric that he had fisted, and gently rested his hands on Derek's shoulders to steady him from tipping forward.

He rubbed his face all over Derek's jaw, neck, shoulders and hair. Derek was making a low, humming noise in his throat, like he was purring. He had never heard a wolf purr..

"What's that noise your making?" he paused to ask.

"What noise?" the man asked, looking into his eyes with confusion. The noise curiously stopped.

"That noise that just stopped when you started talking,"

"Oh, that. It's nothing," Stiles rolled his eyes at Derek's answer.

"Oh come on Derek. You want me to trust you? You should try and trust me too," he emphasized, poking the werewolf in in the shoulder. Derek sighed while he looked away, then he looked down at his hands. He actually looked nervous, or uncomfortable. Stiles was about to tell him forget it when Derek spoke.

"It's a noise our wolves make when we are... content, or, uh, happy," Derek was looking everywhere but at Stiles.

"So you're wolf likes it when I scent you?" He was grinning.

"Yeah, it's a pack thing, you know, smelling like your pack," he moved his hands to explain then looked at Stiles. Stiles wanted to crack a joke about happy wolves but Derek looked almost vulnerable, sharing this information. He would leave it alone... for now.

"Okay, then I'll keep going," Derek seemed to like that plan because he lied back against the couch cushions and allowed Stiles to continue.

He didn't know how long he would have to do this to transfer his scent to Derek. For the other wolves, he did it almost jokingly since they had laughed at him, keeping his visit to each pack member short. Derek was different. He felt like he had to linger longer with Derek, really rub his scent onto him. He tried to reason with himself: maybe he lingered because Derek was the alpha and therefore, had the strongest scent, needing extra time to rub his own scent onto him. Stiles didn't really know his reason, but he wanted to make sure that Derek really smell like him. He didn't have a werewolf nose but after all the work he was doing, he must have rubbed off some of his scent by now.

His abdominal muscles began aching as they had to hold his torso up as he leaned forward. Stiles hesitated and thought about personal boundaries for a moment, but screw it, he had no personal boundaries. He swung his leg over and straddled Derek's lap, settling his weight over the other man's thighs. Derek's head jerked forward, nostrils flaring and eyes wide.

"What?" Stiles whined, "it was hard to hold myself up like that. I'm not made of muscle, you know, unlike you," his hands rested on Derek's shoulders.

"Get off," Derek said tersely.

"No, ," Stiles replied stubbornly.

"Get off, Stiles," Derek said again.

"No, I'm not done scent marking you," he pouted.

"Get off, or I'll throw you off," he threatened.

"Fine, do it," he challenged.

Derek growled deep in his throat, grabbing Stiles around the waist, who yelped in surprise, and hoisted him off his lap. He threw him onto the cushion beside him, being gentle enough that the toss wasn't jarring. Stiles didn't believe he would actually do it but at least he didn't toss him across the room.

"What did you do that for?!" he exclaimed, scrambling to sit up again.

"I told you to get off me and you didn't,"

"Why did you toss me?"

"You told me to,"

"I didn't think you were actually going to do it!"

"You have to start taking me seriously,"

"Did I scent you enough at least? Do you smell like me now?" he huffed in annoyance but wanted to know.

"I-" Derek had paused for a moment, nostrils wide. When he turned back to look at Stiles, his eyes were glinting, "yeah, I do," he affirmed.

"Yes!" Stiles fist pumped the air, he smiled, "now you can think of me when you're alone too," he could hear Jackson groan and he rolled his eyes, shouting, "you know you love it, Jackson!"

"In your dreams, Stillinski," he retorted back.

"Yeah," he joked, "in my dreams, you love me all night long, baby," Jackson grimaced in response, as if trying to rid the image from his mind. Gosh, it was so easy to tease Jackson, he always responded to the barbs. Stiles was grinning like a fool, laughing at the expense of Jackson, especially now he knew what Jackson was really all about. Turning to Derek to share his delight, he stopped short, smile faltering, when Derek had a seriously intense frown on his face.

His dreams were actually very different than his friends imagined. Instead of a cute, strawberry blonde goddess, he dreamed of a firm, muscular dark haired, green eyed man. He still pretended to like Lydia; he would smile at her, compliment her academics or her new look, but it was all out of habit. He didn't feel that way about her anymore. He wanted this dark haired man instead.

It felt different than how it felt with Lydia too. With Lydia, he was always speechless when around her. blown away with her beauty. He crushed on her from a distance, unnoticed. Some would say that it was more like an obsession, and now that he was a step back from it, it was like an obsession.

It was different with Derek. Derek actually took notice of him. They had conversations, well, sort of. And although Derek was stony, Stiles was getting to know his other side too, and he liked it.

The pack chose a movie and they all watched it, even Derek stayed, which was a nice change. Derek and Stiles sat next to each other for the whole movie and Stiles was good, keeping his hands to himself and not straddling him again. He would have wanted to straddle him but for other reasons, but not with the pack right there in the room. For now, he was content to just sit next to him and feel companionship.

VVVVV

Stiles woke to the sound of murmuring.

"How was it? Has everyone gone home?"

"Yes,"

Stiles was groggy, trying to wake up. Where was he? Who was that talking?

"Did everyone have a good time? It looks like Stiles was tired,"

"Yeah, we practiced in the yard for a while then Stiles made us dinner,"

"He sure is a good cook," that sounded like his dad.

"Yeah, he is," and that sounded like Derek, except with a softer tone.

"Let me help you move him off you," his dad suggested in a low voice. "He does this sometimes, fall asleep in weird places,"

What? And then he realized that he was curled up against Derek's body on the couch. He froze, trying to remember when he had curled back up against the man. He was silently freaking out.

"Oh, actually, I'm okay. I don't want to disturb him. I'll wake him up in a few minutes anyway because I'm going to head out,"

"Okay, if your sure you're okay,"

"Yes, thank you,"

He listened to his dad walk up the stairs and close his bedroom door.

"Stiles, you're heart is racing. breathe, what's wrong?" Derek said softly.

"What? How did you even know I was awake?" he asked, lifting his head from Derek's shoulder. Oh my god, his head was resting on Derek's shoulder? No wonder his dad had asked to move him.

Derek had a book in his hand and had closed it when Stiles lifted his head.

"You're breathing changed," he looked... concerned. It was an unfamiliar expression on his face. "But answer my question, what's wrong?" Derek's hand moved toward Stiles' face. He didn't know what he was going to do with the hand but Stiles recoiled as if he was slapped, his heart racing even faster. Derek's hand froze in response then moved it back to rest on his thigh.

"What's wrong?" he asked again, head bowed. Stiles couldn't see his face.

"Uh, er, I don't remember falling asleep during the movie." it was partial truth. Yes, he didn't remember falling asleep but the real reason why he was freaking out, was: why was Derek allowing him to curl up and lean against him as he slept? Derek had a conscious choice: let Stiles sleep on him and having to stay for a while, or let Stiles sleep on the couch by himself and Derek could leave when he wanted.

He understood that when Derek did sleep over, they did end up sleeping together, snuggling, but that was all unconscious choices. Letting Stiles sleep against you while you're awake and reading a book is a very obvious choice.

Derek looked unconvinced; he could probably tell he was lying.

"Don't lie to me Stiles, it's stupid," and yup, there it was.

"I didn't tell you because you're going to think it's stupid," Derek only raised his eyebrows, "Um, fine. Well, I just freaked out because you let me sleep against you and I thought maybe that when you realized how annoying I was being, you know, sleeping on you, you were going to hurt me or slam me against a wall, or something,"

"You're right, that was stupid,"

"Hey!" he looked away, down at his hands, anywhere besides looking at the handsome, but frowning, man sitting next to him, "It's a serious concern, you're stronger than you know, or maybe you do know, since you're a werewolf, but to an average human like me, you're really strong, and it hurts, so I'm always trying to avoid doing stupid stuff in front of you so I won't get slammed around," he took a breath and looked over at Derek. Derek was scowling which frightened him. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything about how Derek slams him around; he didn't want to get beat up tonight.

"Stiles, even though you're smart, you're pretty dumb sometimes,"

"What?" he tried to not look too hopeful.

"The movie was near the end and you fell asleep. Things like this can happen. It was fine," he sounded down right exasperated.

"Oh. But how come you didn't wake me or leave when the rest of the pack left?"

"Your dad wasn't home yet so I was going to stay until he got home," that sounded reasonable.

"So you just decided to pick up a book and read? Even though I was in your space?" That's what bothered him the most. It's fine if Derek wants to stay, but why did he let Stiles stay up in his space? Derek shrugged and looked a little bit embarrassed.

"You've been really tired recently so I wanted to let you sleep," It was obvious that Derek wasn't sharing everything.

"Uh, yeah, I've been stressed with school," Derek frowned at the obvious lie but let it go. They were both too tired anyways to argue anymore.

Derek leaned over and briefly rubbed his face in his hair. He pulled back after a moment and moved to push himself up to his feet.

That had certainly not seemed like enough time to transfer scents.

Stiles did his own leaning and rubbed his face along the other man's jaw. When Derek seemed to sigh with contentment, closing his eyes, Stiles knew he was doing it right.

Remembering what had happened earlier in the evening but not caring, he carefully and slowly moved to straddle Derek's lap. Like last time, Derek's head whipped forward.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

"It's more comfortable," he tried to reason without whining.

"Fine," he grunted. Maybe he was allowing it because they were alone or maybe it was because Derek trusted him, but maybe also he was tired and just didn't care.

He worked his face across Derek's, trying not to get too much stubble rash. His hands were resting on Derek's neck, gently circling and massaging. He moved his head across Derek'd forehead and into his hair. He exhaled quietly in Derek's ear and in response, Derek almost silently groaned. He could feel Derek moving his hands to rest on Stiles' hips; they were a firm and reassuring presence.

Stiles dragged his lips across the man's cheek. Derek let out a strangled gasp and recoiled his head.

"I'm not going to hurt you, " Stiles murmured, leaning forward to nuzzle his cheek and neck again.

His skin felt like it was on fire, thousands of nerve endings burning and striking against skin contact. He felt like he was drowning and Derek's skin was his savior. He clung to him, murmuring nonsense and sighing with pleasure.

Running on instinct, Stiles pushed his hips into the man's lap as he ran his lips over Derek's jaw again, nipping his chin gently between his teeth.

"Stiles, " the werewolf growled.

He pulled back, for the first time coming out of his hot daze.

"Stiles, stop, " Derek sounded like he was choking. He looked wrecked, his hair was mused and his pupils were blown so wide that his green iris' were just thin slivers.

"Stiles," he repeated again. He sounded like he was drowning. He gripped Stiles' hip's tighter and pushed the boy down until he was still. He had been slowly humping Derek's lap without realizing it. Whoops.

He scampered off and moved all the way to the end of the couch, trying unsuccessfully to slow his frantic heart. He was so turned on.

"Um," for once he didn't know what to say, "er, sorry about that," his face felt hot when he realized how far he had gone, but also how much Derek let him do. When Derek didn't say anything, he tried to cover up his awkward silence.

"It, um, felt kinda like instinct? Like a wolf? Er, no, no, that's not what I meant," he hurried to say when Derek gave him a pointed look, " I just mean that it felt like the right thing to do. Come on, I'm a horny teenager, doesn't this happen to everyone? Er, what I mean is, ugh, I don't know," was Derek going to hate him forever? He felt like he was switching through his emotions so quickly, flustered, frustrated, angry, aroused, embarrassed. He didn't know which one to feel.

"Please don't hate me," he voiced his concern. He had started to hesitantly think of Derek as a friend and he didn't want to scare him off.

Derek ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it down. Stiles watched, remembering what it had felt like to do that but then he looked away, feeling guilty. Derek cleared his throat and looked at Stiles, but then looked away again, his own face turning pink.

"It's okay," Derek said, "i don't hate you,"

Derek busied himself with getting ready to go. Stiles totally did not watch Derek stretch. He followed him to the door and said good night. His heart fluttered when Derek looked him in the eyes to say good night.

Damn that man, making him feel all sorts of new things.

When he got in bed, he thought about this confounding man and all the trouble he caused Stiles. But also thought about his eyes, his sculpted back and hard planes of his chest. He rolled over and slide his hands into his pajama pants. He thought about Derek slamming him into the wall and doing other things besides threatening him. He thought about how it felt to sleep against his body. He imagined sitting in his lap and stroking his chest, kissing his jaw or licking his mouth open. When he climaxed, he quietly moaned the man's name, biting his lip so his dad wouldn't hear.

He still had nightmares.


	12. Chapter 12 Wolf, the Dog

On Friday after school, Stiles found Derek reading in the living room. He was sitting on the far end of the couch, with Call of the Wild open in his hands. As he went into the kitchen to make himself a peanut butter sandwich, he thought about how the story is so fitting for Derek. The poor dog at the end of the story, loses his family and has to live on his own in the wilds of Alaska.

He gathered the supplies on the counter but after a moment's hesitation, he pulled out extra bread to make a sandwich for Derek. He came back into the living room with the sandwiches on a shared plate and plopped down on the couch, right next to Derek.

Derek looked up from the book, a frown already in place. Stiles jumped in before Derek could say anything mean.

"I made you a sandwich," he said hastily, holding the plate up in front of Derek's face.

His frown disappeared and he looked surprised. He watched him eye ball the sandwich. Stiles huffed.

"I didn't poison it, if that's what you're thinking," Stiles remarked defensively and a little hurt.

Derek closed his book and put it aside, picking up the top sandwich instead. Stiles grabbed his own sandwich too, but watched Derek. After Derek took the first big bite, he took his own bite.

They ate their sandwiches in silence. Stiles would like to say it was a comfortable, companionable silence.

When Derek was finished, he picked up the book again and began reading. When Stiles got up to go back into the kitchen, Derek only acknowledged him with a parting glance.

Stiles returned a moment later with two large glasses of water. Derek took his without a word.

_Sip, flip, sip, sip, flip..._

Stiles sat on the couch with his eyes closed, listening to Derek read his book. He had already finished his water and the empty glass sat on the table. The sound of the pages being turned as a soothing whisper. He was warm, full and comfortable and soon he was lulled to sleep.

Sometime later, he awoke. He could feel a hand rubbing circles on his back. It felt good. It took another moment for him to realize that he was lying down with a warm, heavy weight settled on top of his body. A blanket, his mind supplied. He turned his head, nuzzling his pillow. The hand on his back disappeared and he whined in it's absence. His pillow shifted below him. Pillows don't move, he thought groggily, and opened his eyes.

He found himself curled up, his head in Derek's lap. He blinked and sat up quickly, the blanket sliding down from his shoulders to settle in his own lap.

"Whoah," he breathed and he looked at Derek, "um, I'm so sorry," his face felt hot. He wondered how close his face had been to Derek's groin.

"It's fine," Derek's own face was pink, like he was embarrassed to be caught allowing Stiles to sleep in his lap. "You've been sleeping a lot during the day," he mentioned.

"Er, yeah, I've been really stressed, staying up late to do homework," Derek gave him a puzzling look at the obvious lie.

If Derek really didn't like him in his lap, he could have gotten up, right? He could have stood up and dumped Stiles on the floor. But Derek allowed Stiles to nap on him. He even covered him in a blanket and was rubbing his back. Must be a wolf thing.

Stiles scooched away from Derek and grabbed the TV remote. He caught the end of an action movie. He almost fell asleep again but was startled awake when Derek's cell phone rang. Before he picked up, Stiles saw that it was Boyd.

"Hello?" Derek answered.

Gah, this was going to be frustrating to only hear one side of the conversation, especially since Derek would most likely say little to nothing.

"Yes, I'm here with him right now," his eyes slide over briefly to Stiles. They were talking about him.

"What? Right now?" the tension in his voice was straining.

"No, we want them dead,"

"Call the pack, have them meet us there. I'll be right over," and he hung up.

Derek quickly stood and pulled on his jacket. Stiles stood too, frantically wringing his hands.

"What? What's going on? What did he say?" he rushed.

"The hunters are in the woods. We're going to hunt them down," he was almost at the door when he spun on his heels and glared at Stiles, "Stay here," he punctuated.

"But I can be helpful!" he protested. "I can get dad's extra gun and I can -"

"No! No. I want you to stay here,"

"Derek! Come on -"

"No!" Derek roared, then added with a restrained voice, "you need to be kept safe, Stiles. They want you. They want to hurt you," Derek was visibly struggling to explain.

Stiles struggled with what Derek was saying. How could he be considered a valueable pack member if Derek always wanted to leave him behind. Did Derek think he was that worthless? But then he remembered what Isaac had explained to him. Derek thought that this was the best plan, and as a human beta, he had to respect his alpha's wishes, even though it felt like the wrong decision.

"Okay," he sighed in defeat, "but could you call me when your done? I want to make sure everyone is okay,"

Derek looked startled at his obedience but nodded at his request.

He was gone, closing the door firmly behind him.

He went up to his room. For a while he paced, then he sat down on his bed and jiggled his leg. After a while, he started pacing again. The wait was excruciating. What was going on? Was the pack okay? Was Derek okay?

Gah, he felt like one of the women in a Louie Lamour story, waiting for her man to come home safely - except he wasn't waiting for a man, he was waiting for a pack of werewolves. He was going crazy, no wonder those women were always busying themselves at keeping the ranch going, otherwise their nerves would fry.

He worried and busied himself with cleaning his room. He picked up dirty laundry and put it in the hamper. He picked up clean laundry, folded it and put it away in the drawers. He even got out a damp rag and wiped down all the surfaces for dust. His books were back on the shelf and all his shoes were put away. He looked around, satisfied at the job well done but still really upset. He hadn't heard yet and his anxiety was eating him up.

He took his laundry hamper, and his dad's too, down to the laundry room by the back door. He might as well do more chores. It kept him productive and kept him from going after them. He sorted the colors, darks, whites, lights, and reds, then started the first load of darks.

He was switching out the laundry when he heard howling followed by gun shots.

Shit! Did they hit their target? Were the hunters cornering his pack? They were clearly very experienced hunters and must have some sort of strategy. What if right at this moment, they were slitting Isaac's throat? What if right at this moment, Scott was being strung up on a limb and being beaten? What if Derek was lunging, trying to free his pack but he was bleeding out with a wolfsbane bullet in his chest? His imagination was going to create endless scenarios and possibilities for him to be distressed about; he couldn't sit around and wait any longer. He was a man of action.

Forgetting his promise, or rather, screwing it to hell because he couldn't just stay at home, he ran out the front door with his keys. It was dark and the streets were empty. He turned left and headed out to the preserve. A long drawn out howl shook him. His eyes searched the sides of the roads, searching, searching, searching, hoping to spot someone.

His phone rang. It was Scott.

"Scott! I'm driving to the turn off road for the preserve. I heard the gun shots. How is everyone?" his engine was whining at four thousand rpms so he had to shift gears, "Eh, hold on-" he was using his right hand to hold the phone to his ear so still clutching the phone, he shifted up into fourth gear.

It was hard to maneuver with a full hand but with practice, it wasn't so bad. He really wasn't suppose to be using a hand held device while driving, it was against the law, but this was a desperate time.

"Okay, I'm back,"

"We're okay, it didn't go well. I will tell you more about it later. But we don't know where Derek is," Scott sounded guilty.

"What? You lost Derek? Should I go out into the woods to look for him?" Stiles felt frantic. What if the hunters got him? If Derek was killed, Stiles hoped that it wouldn't be a "cut the head off the snake and the body dies," scenario. He definitively didn't want to be found and killed because the pack would be weaker without their alpha. Stiles forced his mind to not think about living without Derek.

"No! No, that would be a bad idea. We actually combed through the woods and couldn't find him. So he's somewhere else,"

Another howl almost startled the phone out of his grasp. He slammed on the brakes, his whole body jerking forward. He pulled his baby over to the side of the road to finish the rest of the phone conversation. He didn't want to get all the way there and have to turn back because of a new plan.

"Is that one of you?"

"No... actually that's Derek..." Scott replied confused.

"What's he saying?"

"What? No, it's not like a cartoon Stiles, the howls don't have words, just general messages," annoyance crept into Scott's tone.

"Fine, what's his message?" he huffed in annoyance, now is not the time to be technical, there was a missing alpha and dangerous hunters on the loose.

"I don't know," Scott replied sheepishly. "I haven't learned that yet,"

Something was moving in the trees next to his parked Jeep. He tensed.

"Someone's here," he whispered into his phone.

"Shit! Who is it?" Scott replied equally hushed.

"I... I can't see yet. I just see a shape moving through the trees," he gripped the phone tighter.

"Shit, where are you?"

"I'm on Wilson's Cut Off Road on the way to the preserve,"

"Shit! Um, we can be there in 10 minutes if we run,"

"I'll be dead in 10 minutes,"

"Wait, can't you just start driving?"

"I don't want to alert them to my presence, especially if it's hunters, Derek would kill me, if he's not already dead," he whispered his fear into the phone.

"Okay, okay, have they seen you yet?"

"I don't know. I think if they would have seen me, they would be moving more purposefully to my Jeep. I don't think they know I'm here yet," it made him feel marginally better.

"We're coming for you," panted Scott. .

"Good, and stay on the line,"

He could hear Scott moving quickly, like running, his breath panting. The shape moved out of the darkness, becoming more distinct in the shadows of the trees. Stiles saw a big, dark wolf. The red eyes reflected the moonlight, they were so intense that it felt like they almost pierced through his heart.

"Wait," Stiles heaved a sigh of relief, "It's just Derek,"

"Oh good," he heard Scott stop running, "can you put him on?"

"Uh, actually, he's in his alpha form,"

"Oh shit. Do you still want me to come? Do you think you'll be okay?" Stiles appreciated Scott's concern.

"No, go home, clean up and get some rest. Derek won't hurt me. We'll be fine,"

"Okay, if you're sure,"

"I am, thanks, bye," and he hung up.

He swung open his door and walked around his Jeep. He stopped when he was five feet away from the gigantic wolf. Derek's alpha form was similar to Peter's alpha form. If he decided to stand, he would tower at seven feet tall, but he was currently in his quadro-ped position, all claws on the ground. His back legs were much like a human's, with knees, muscular legs bent, almost sitting his rump on the ground. His front arms bent, keeping his body low to the ground. His shoulders were widen, chest tapering down to a trim waist and Stiles decided to not look any further, knowing full well what he would see.

Alpha's could also choose to transform into a complete wolf but it seemed like they always preferred this alpha form. Maybe because of the thumbs? It was a good form for battle because of speed, strength, agility and the ability to use their claws like hands. Their wolf form was just an enormous, muscular wolf, still scary, but less versatile.

Derek was looking at him with red eyes and it was beginning to be unnerving. Was he suppose to do something?

The alpha took a step forward and a growl rumbled in his chest. Stiles could have sworn that he felt the ground shake a little bit.

At the same moment, he realized that he was keeping eye contact with the alpha and he quickly dropped his eyes to the grass. He had to remember that this wasn't Derek who let him get away with all his shit. This was the alpha, the more instinctual side of Derek, his innerself, his other half. He had to remember to be a good pack member.

He knelt on the ground, sitting on his feet like a school child. He could feel the dew soaking through his knees but he was trying to keep his head lower than the alpha's. Slowly, he tilted his head to the side and let it roll back, exposing his neck.

The alpha rumbled and stepped forward, nosing his flesh. His nose was cold against his skin and he trembled.

The alpha ran he nose over Stiles' jaw line and behind his ear, huffing hot breath. It kinda was turning him on. he leaned back farther, leaned on his hands behind him for support. He could feel the wolf's nose trace all over his neck and jaw line. It tickled.

He tired to move away but claws suddenly grabbed hold of his sides and held him in place.

"Derek," he whined, shifting and trying to loosen the strong grasp. "I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry. I know I didn't listen but I was really worried," he tried to explain but had to remind himself that the person he knew as Derek was taking the back seat in this situation, he was talking with the wolf instead.

"Derek, please, I'm cold," The claws only held him tighter and he whined with pain.

Instantly he was let go and the alpha was nosing at his face, whining. Derek's eyes were back to green, he was himself again.

"Okay, okay," he reassured, "I'm okay," he hesitantly raised his hand and rested in between the two ears. The alpha tracked the movement with his eyes.

He scratched his head and moved his hand in circles, around and behind his ears.

He tried to palm the soft ear but the ear twitched out of his hand. He tried again but the wolf let out a small growl.

"Okay, okay," he placated, "I won't touch your ears, I got it,"

He ran both hands over the shoulders and rubbed circles into the fur. The fur was unexpectedly and incredible soft and thick.

Reluctantly he pulled his hands back into his own space.

He wanted to say so much, he wanted to tell him that he was so glad that he was safe, that he wasn't hurt, but all he said was "Come on, let's go back to my house. I'm soaked," he was cold and shivering.

The ride back was quiet, Stiles didn't want to remind Derek that he had promised to stay at home tonight. Derek sat in the passenger seat, hunching over a little bit because he was too tall.

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, slumping his shoulders when he saw his dad was not home yet. He parked quickly in the driveway. When he unlocked the front door, Derek pushed his way in first and ran up the steps.

"Jackass," he said, knowing that even though Derek was upstairs, he would be able to hear him. "I gave him a ride home and he still pushes me around, how rude," Stiles was talking to himself as he turned off the lights downstairs and made sure the front and back doors with locks. Again, he knew that Derek would hear him but he didn't care.

Actually, yes, Stiles did care! He sat at home all night, worrying and fretting and when he finally did break his promise, it was only because he was really, incredibly worried. Then when he comes and picks up the sourwolf, he shows no appreciation, but rather instead, pushes him around, rude. How come he still hung out with this creep?

He went through his bedtime routine, not even glancing at the sour wolf who was sitting in his room. But when Stiles got into bed, Derek surprisingly curled up on the foot of the bed, still in his alpha form. This was different, it was enough to pull him out of his weird, grumpy funk.

"I've always wanted a dog," Stiles joked, and Derek responded with a halfhearted growl.

"Oh come on, life would be great as my dog. Dad would always sneak you bacon, you'd be able to sleep with me and I would give you lots of belly rubs," Stiles moved and pushed his shoulder against Derek, rolling him onto his side. He scratched his belly.

"Come on, who wouldn't love this?" he laughed, enjoying the annoyed face Derek was giving him.

Derek got up, shook like a wet dog and laid across Stiles' chest, pining his arms down at his sides.

"Hey, hey! Get off!" he was laughing and Derek was making this soft whuffing sound like he was laughing too.

"Okay, okay! No more belly scratches! I got it! I got it!" Derek began to move off him, "unless you ask of course," Derek rolled his eyes but lay down next to him.

Stiles rolled over and gently touched the top of Derek's head.

"Is this okay?" he whispered.

Although it was very un-wolf like, Derek's tail thumped once. He was probably trying to be extremely obvious since he thought Stiles was a crazy person. Stiles carefully slide his hand from between the ears down to his shoulders, again and again, gently petting him. He curled his fingers, rubbing small circles in the fur on his neck and around the ears. Derek's eyes fluttered closed.

He it was hard to imagine that this huge wolf was Derek, the guy who sat next to him on the couch or would eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with him. Except for those two times when he scent marked Derek, he would never ever intentionally touch Derek if he was in in human form but it was really easy to forget for a moment that this animal was Derek.

Stiles split up the two halves in his mind. One half, Derek, a grumpy, rude, abrasive human. The second half, almost completely different, was the wolf, an animal who allowed and maybe even liked being petted and had all the other animal mannerisms.

While Stiles split up the two personas in his mind, Derek was in peace with his two halves, they were connected together. Derek saw himself as one being, one personality, but many forms and shapes that took on the more dominant characteristics of that shape.

Stiles, for the moment, forgot that this wolf was also the man who annoyed him, who teased him and yelled at him. He let himself forget, allowing himself to take this moment and enjoy it.

He trailed his hand down further, running over his shoulder blade and down his spine. He fur was so soft; he wanted to rub his face in it.

He could feel hard muscle and sinew under his hand. It was fascinating and he wanted to explore all of the werewolf. He moved his hand back up to Derek's head, carefully and tentatively touching his ears again. Then, when Derek didn't protest, ran his finger tips over his checks. His eyes opened then, watching Stiles' face, but Stiles wasn't paying attention; he was only watching his fingers run over the fur, his eyes wide and mouth slightly opened. He licked his lips and Derek tracked the movement.

His hand trailed over his cheeks again and then over the muzzle, careful and slow. He took a moment to feel the whiskers then he put his hand back up between the ears.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, not caring that he was blushing.

Derek's eyes startled to Stiles' eyes; Stiles was earnestly staring into his green eyes, completely sincere with his confession.

Derek's ear twitched to the side and the moment was broken as he leaped off the bed.

"Hey, where are you going?" then he heard it.

The front door closed.

"Stiles?" he dad called. Stiles grumbled, sounding much like Derek.

"Shit, he's not suppose to come home tonight," but then he felt really bad. His dad was over-worked and deserved getting off work early.

Derek was at the window, trying to work the latch with his claws.

"Wait, Derek, wait," he implored as he got out of bed, "please?" Derek paused and sat down on his haunches.

"You can't go out because of the hunters. I'll go talk with him, okay? And then he won't try and come in later,"

Stiles didn't wait for a response, not like Derek could anyway, and he bound down the stairs to find his dad.

"Dad!" he greeted, patting the man on the back, "how are you?"

"I'm great son. I got to leave a little early tonight. It feels good to be home," he sounded so damn happy and Stiles again felt so bad for cursing the situation before.

"That's great dad!" he replied enthusiastically. "Dinner's in the microwave..." he started to walk back toward the stairs.

"Do you have any plans this weekend?" aaand his dad wanted to have a conversation, okay.

"Uh, I think my friends are coming over and we might practice with Derek,"

"That would be great. You seem to be hanging out with these kids a lot,"

"Uh, yeah, well, their my friends now,"

"That's good son, I'm glad your making more friends. And how's Derek?"

"Derek?" he felt his heart rate increase, "Derek is... fine?"

"Is he treating everyone okay? He's not taking advantage of any of you or anything?"

"What? What? Whoah, back up there. Why would you even ask that? Why would you think that?" Did he sound defensive? He sure as hell felt defensive. "Derek doesn't touch us dad," his mind was blown that his dad was making such a serious accusation.

Pack touching didn't count as inappropriate touching, at least, he didn't think so. Inappropriate touching was unwanted attention or doing it without someone's consent. His dad raised his eye brows and gave him a surprised look.

"No Stiles, I didn't think he was touching you inappropriately,"

"Oh,"he said, blushing. His dad moved his hands to explain.

"I was thinking more like taking advantage of your good nature and kindness. Making you pay him, give him money? Any of that?"

"What? No. Come on dad! I wouldn't hang out with someone who I didn't like. Derek is a really nice guy and completely under-appreciated. He's cool to hang out with. I like him a lot," Stiles just realized that he just told his dad he liked Derek-fucking-Hale. Cue palm to face.

Stiles didn't know how his dad was going to interpret that, god, he didn't even know how to interpret it. Did he mean romantically? He wasn't sure. He knew at least that the more they hung out together, the more and more he considered Derek a friend; for right now, that was good enough for him.

He didn't think his dad's eyebrows could raise that high. He rushed to cover up any confusing messages.

"I like all the friends I hang out with, well, maybe not Jackson, he's a dick to me at school. But what I mean is, I wouldn't hang out with them if I didn't like them,"

"Okay son," he paused, opening his mouth and closing it again, " you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yeah, I know, thanks dad. I'm going to go upstairs for bed now,"

"Okay, have a good night,"

He trudged upstairs and into his room. Stiles was surprised to see that Derek was laying on his bed again, but this time in his full wolf form, head resting on his front paws, eyes closed.

Derek had probably heard the whole conversation so there was no need to recap. After he slipped under his covers and relaxed for a few minutes, he spoke into the darkness.

"You know, he's just watching out for me. He doesn't actually thinks your taking advantage of me. He just wants to show me that he's doing his job as a parent and that he loves me,"

There was no response from Derek so maybe he already knew that or maybe he didn't care. Stiles still needed to say it though.

He woke suddenly in the darkness. Derek was growling, deep and low, shaking the whole bed. One moment Stiles was half asleep, the next he was wide awake, sitting up and trying to pin point the threat.

His door was open, light spilling into his dark room. His father was standing there, his gun out and pointed at Derek.

"Dad! Stop! Stop!" Stiles frantically shouted, "It's okay, he's okay!" his dad pointed his gun to the floor but didn't stand down. He still had his "sheriff" face on.

"Son, how about you explain what the hell that is," yup, and he was using his sheriff voice too.

"Uh, it's a dog or maybe a wolf mix," he lied, "uh, the shelter is full so I told Scott that I would foster him for a night, or until their was room at the shelter,"

"That sure as hell is not a dog Stiles, it's a monster!" Derek growled even louder, raising his lips to threaten with his gigantic and pointed teeth.

"Stop that," Stiles said to Derek as he slapped his backside, "it's just my dad, he's not going to hurt you, right dad?" Stiles asked pointedly, then added, "for god's sake, put away the gun, it's making him nervous," The sheriff looked extremely reluctant but holstered his gun even so.

The moment the gun was put away, Derek stopped growling and relaxed his face. He still watched the sheriff, tense, ready to bound into action if necessary. Stiles hoped it wasn't necessary.

"Don't call him a monster. He doesn't like it, he's not a monster, he's just a big wolf,"

A huge wolf really. While average grey wolves are about 75 pounds, Derek was easily 175. While grey wolves were about two feet at their shoulder, Derek was maybe two and a half, almost three feet from the ground. He really looked like a wolf on steroids, like the extinct dire wolf breed, large and filled out with thick legs and hind quarters and long, sharp nails. It would be freaky shit to run into one of these big guys in the woods and Stiles took another moment to be thankful that Derek was on his team.

"I have never seen a wolf that big before," his dad rolled his eyes, thinking that Stiles was just being silly because obviously the animal didn't know what they were choosing to call him.

"Well, maybe he's a hybrid or a mixed breed or something. We're not really sure. But he's a really good guy," Stiles crawled over the blankets to sit next to his wolf at the end of the bed. He pet him, scratching his sides. He was careful not to scratch the tummy because he remembered what he promised.

Unexpectedly Derek rolled over onto his side, inviting Stiles to scratch him there. Stiles was pleased and he used both hands, hoping to make it one of the best tummy rubs he's ever had.

His dad stepped into the room and knelt in front of them. He reached forward and slowly pat the wolf's side.

Derek's tongue lolled out of his mouth and he wagged his tail. He look, well, very dog like. Maybe that was the point. Derek was trying to convince his dad that he was a harmless mutt who should be allowed to stay in his bedroom tonight.

Something in his brain clicked. Derek had changed into his wolf shape thinking that something like this could have happened. Better be safe than sorry. If dad had walked in on them while Derek was in his alpha form, Derek would have been shot repeatedly. Then, even though they weren't wolfsbane bullets, he would still be wounded and enraged... maybe losing all of himself to instinct and killing his dad. Stiles swallowed, so thankful that Derek was cleverly thinking ahead.

"What's his name?"

"Uh, um, I don't think he has a name yet. I'm just calling him Wolf,"

"Wolf, eh? Well he seems like a good dog. Scary and huge, but a good dog. He was protecting you, you know. I came in to make sure you were okay... Isaac had told me about all the nightmares," Derek's head whipped around to look at Stiles, "so I wanted to make sure you were sleeping well. I guess I startled Wolf and he was trying to protect you. That loyalty is a good quality in a dog,"

"Yeah, ferocious looking, but really a sweetheart," he cooed, "just a big, soft, cuddly wolf," man, Derek was going to kill him for this.

"Okay son," his dad chuckled, watching Derek try and pull his head from Stiles' tickling hands, "have a good night sleep. We'll talk about fostering Wolf in the morning. I wish you would have asked first,"

"Sorry dad, you weren't around so I just volunteered. It's only going to be tonight though. I think Scott will have a spot available for him tomorrow,"

When the bedroom door closed, Derek rolled to his feet and hopped out of bed. He walked stiff legged over to the far corner, clearing annoyed.

"Derek," he whined, "is this about the baby talk? I'm sorry! I know I got a little carried away but I wanted to show my dad that you weren't going to hurt me," he urged, trying to explain.

Derek turned around and sneezed at him, showing his displeasure.

"I'm sorry okay! I'll add that to the list of things I will never do again, okay? Ugh," he was so frustrated, "Fine, you can sleep on the ground if you want, you big baby," Oops, wrong thing to say.

Derek bound over to Stiles with incredible speed and snapped his teeth in front of his face, as if to say, 'shut up Stiles or I will bite you,' Stiles' heart hitched a little bit in fear but when he saw Derek's green eyes, he knew that he wasn't that mad, maybe just really annoyed.

The state of the eyes dared Stiles to do this; he leaned forward and captured Derek's face between his hands. He curled his fingers in the thick fur, scratching him.

"I'm sorry. You know me, I'm always saying stupid things," he whispered.

Derek seemed to grumble but laid down, flush with Stiles' side.

"thank you," he whispered so quietly, it was almost silent, but he knew that Derek heard him.

He buried his fingers in Derek's ruff at the base of his neck, and slept long and deep.


	13. Chapter 13 Taco Bell

When Derek awoke the next morning, he felt really groggy, like he slept long and deep. He could feel Stiles pressed against his backside and his hands tangled in his fur. Ugh, that's right, he was still in wolf form because the sheriff was home.

He paused and took a moment to listen in the quiet house. The sheriff was moving around in his own room down the hall. There was no way Derek could sneak out, especially after Stiles gave some excuse about him being a foster animal. Damn. He had to stay for a while, at least until the sheriff left.

He could hear the man opening his bedroom door and walking down the hall. He paused in the hallway at Stiles' door. The door slowly opened and the sheriff peered inside.

"Hey, Wolf, come," Derek turned his head and looked up, blinking, "Wolf, come, let's go for a walk and let my boy sleep, eh?"

Derek internally grumbled, _fine_.

He carefully pulled away from Stiles' embrace, his backside, suddenly cold. Stiles murmured in his sleep and rolled over, snuggling deep under his covers.

He hopped out of the bed and walked stiffly to the sheriff, stretching and shaking out his limbs. He made sure to yawn impressively, showing off his teeth, a warning in case he tried anything.

Once he was out of the room, the sheriff carefully pulled the door closed again. He patted his gigantic head and went down the stairs.

"Where's your collar?" the sheriff asked. He was looking in the foyer, then looked in the kitchen.

"You came home with a collar right?" He was looking under piles of clothes in the laundry room, incredibly perplexed.

When he didn't find anything, the sheriff got some old rope instead.

"This will have to do instead," he apologized as he tied a loose collar and leash.

Derek was mortified, he had never allowed anyone, ever, to tie him up like a damn dog, _using rope_. A real dog collar was one thing, bought from Petco, that would have been annoying, but fine. His little sisters use to dress him up in fancy collars when they played 'make believe' and 'house,' but the sheriff was using a _rope_, like some mutt tied up in the backyard. Once they were out on the sidewalk, halfway down the block, he twisted his head and pulled out of the collar.

"Uh, shoot! Um, Wolf, sit, um, stay, uh," the sheriff fumbled, trying to get Derek to stay so he could slip the rope collar back on. Derek walked quickly ahead of the man, but paused and looked back.

He waited until the sheriff was only a few feet away, then walked ahead again. There was no way in hell that he would allow himself to be leashed. He always stayed a few feet ahead of the man and soon the sheriff gave up and slung the rope over his shoulders.

Derek felt smug, allowing the sheriff to walk beside him again.

Stiles' neighborhood had a lot of mundane smells. He could smell dogs who marked the bushes and fence posts, some frequenting everyday on the same route, and other marks smelled weeks old.

He took his turn to mark some bushes. After all, this was pack territory now, and he wanted to let everyone know.

Besides the whole collar and leash incident, their walk was pretty nice. The sheriff was quiet, so different than his son, and he walked at a quick pace.

If Derek stopped to mark a post, the sheriff would keep going, but turn and look to make sure he was going to catch up.

They walked through the park, the neighborhood just now waking up, morning joggers and some kids on their bikes. When the joggers saw him, they sputtered, tripping over their feet, looking a lot like Stiles, actually. He stuck his nose in the air and trotted past, deciding to not be offended.

At the end of the path, almost a city block away, was a baseball diamond, benches and a water fountain.

"Race you to the water fountain," the man joked and he took off at a run.

_Ha,_ thought Derek, and was able to meet him every stride. He bound toward the end of the path, more at a fast trot than a run; werewolves had long legs so they were able to be swift, hunting and fighting, this pace was nothing more than a quick jog. The sheriff on the other hand was wheezing, his feet slapping the path like someone who never ran. Toward to water fountain, Derek let up, allowing the sheriff to win, not like the sheriff could actually _really_ win, but Derek was feeling generous toward this man this morning.

The man took a long drink of water and put fresh water in the dog bowl sitting on the ground. Since it was fresh and cool, he lapped some up.

The sheriff collapsed onto the bench, like he had no bones; it looked like something Stiles would do. Derek snorted at the obvious comparison. He panted and sweat in the sun. Derek hopped onto the bench and sat next to him. He would not sit on the ground like some stupid dog. They watched a little league team set up and begin practice.

A dog walker past by their bench. The woman didn't glance at them but when the dog, a German Shepherd, saw Derek, he barked, lunging and pulling at the leash.

"I'm so sorry," the woman began apologizing, "Niko is never like this," she tugged fruitlessly at the leash, calling Niko and trying to drag him away. Niko was having none of it.

"It's okay, stuff like this happens," the Sheriff tried to reason, grabbing for Derek, as if he thought Derek would lung back. He tried to grasp the rope from around his shoulders while at the same time, holding on to Derek but he kept fumbling and opted for just holding on to Derek with both hands, his arms going around Derek's back and meeting at his chest, almost like a desperate embrace.

"Your dog is well behaved," she choked out, probably just now getting a good look at his size.

"Thanks, he's actually my son's dog. I don't know him that well so I don't know how he's going to respond," Derek felt the Sheriff grasp his chest tighter.

Derek wouldn't even have attack or lunge, he was alpha, after all. Derek merely looked at the dog, letting his eyes bleed red as he raised his lip. Like turning a switch, the German Shepherd cowered, rolling over and exposing his belly, a long whine piercing the air.

Derek easily pulled out of the Sheriff's grasp and hopped off the bench, nosing the exposed belly and neck. He snuffed, letting his maw linger on Niko's throat. '_I am alpha_,' the gesture said, '_I hold dominion over you_.'

The dog whined and Derek let him up. Niko rolled over and came to lick at Derek's snout and face, as if to say, '_yes, you are alpha, I'm just a silly pup_,' Derek tolerated it for a minute than hopped back up to sit next to the Sheriff.

The woman kept apologizing, her face red and was able to pull Niko away this time.

"Good dog, Wolf," the Sheriff praised, running his hands through his fur as if to apologize for man handling him earlier.

The morning quieted and they went back to watching the little league team. The kids were all so small. The parents crowded around, cheering encouragements and helping the youngsters practice.

His voice startled Derek.

"Stiles used to be on a little league team... he was so young then, so sweet, innocent. I'm worried about him, you know? ...but I'm glad he has these new friends. They are all pretty good kids, even that Derek..." he paused and snorted, "I should be worried about me too, look, I'm talking to a dog like I would talk to a therapist, "

Derek felt the man rub his neck.

"You're a good dog, Wolf,"

They returned to the house just as Stiles was flailing and sputtering out the front door. He was looking around wildly, calling Derek's name in a low voice but only Derek could hear that.

"Son, are you okay?" the sheriff called out, concern evident on his face.

"Dad? Dad! Have you seen-" Stiles stopped in his tracks, arms wind milling around, landing on his ass. Stiles crawled on his hands and knees over to Derek and grabbed his ruff.

"Loose something, son?" his dad chuckled.

"Uh, no, actually, I'm all good," Stiles stuttered, but quietly thinking only Derek could hear, "where did you go? You can't just go, I was worried,"

"I took Wolf on a walk," his dad explained. Stiles looked up quickly.

"You took Der-, uh, Wolf on a walk?" he sounded incredulous. "Was everything okay?" god, the tone Stiles was using made it seem like he was incriminating Derek for something.

He huffed his annoyance and walked up to the front door, done with this conversation. He looked at the door, the handle he couldn't open with his paws, then back to the Stillinski men, who were still talking.

"What time will you leave for work?"

"Actually, I decided to take the day off. I want to hang out with you and watch you practice with your friends,"

"Oh, uh, that's great dad," _not_.

"Come inside, son. I'm hungry for something to eat," Stiles followed his dad into the house, Derek pushing in front of Stiles, stepping on his foot on purpose, digging his back claws into the boys tennis shoe.

"Ow, fuck, Der- Wolf, what the hell was that for? Fuck," he hopped around on one foot looking ridiculous.

Derek sent him a look, idiot.

The sheriff was laughing.

"Stiles, calm down, it wasn't Wolf's fault. Your foot was just in the way," he laughed as he pulled the eggs out of the fridge. Stiles grumbled in response then took over the cooking. The sheriff moved to sit in one of the kitchen chairs, Derek sat down next to him. Almost immediately, the man's hand came down to scratch his head.

Derek was watching Stiles cook the eggs. From his vantage point, he couldn't watch everything the teenager was doing, but from the gist of things, it looked like it would be scrambled eggs with cheese.

Derek's stomach grumbled, voicing it's own thoughts about the delicious smells wafting to his snout. Stiles turned and looked at Derek, eyes lit with laughter.

"Aw, sourwolf, are you hungry?" he mocked him.

Yes, he lifted his lip in a silent response, showing his displeasure at Stiles' mockery.

Stiles and the sheriff continued their easy bantering while he cooked breakfast. Derek only half listened.

"I was actually thinking about bringing Wolf back after breakfast because my friends are coming over at 11am,"

"Oh, okay,"

"I have to get him over to the shelter because Scott's not available to do it after practice," Derek could hear all the lies.

"Oh, okay, that's alright Stiles," the sheriff smelled genuinely disappointed, had he wanted to spend time with Derek? It was an interesting thought. But this was the way it had to be.

How was he suppose to teach practice if he was also parading around, pretending to be a dog?

Derek heard Stiles' turn the burner on the stove off and in a moment, a very generous, heaping pile of eggs was put in front of him on the floor. He looked up, startled, he didn't think he was going to be getting any. Stiles had two more plates, putting one down in front of his dad and one at his place.

"You're giving the dog your good scrambled eggs?" he sounded disbelieving.

"Yeah, he's hungry and I didn't think to ask Scott for any kibble," Derek and Stiles both knew that he would never eat kibble. He lowered his face and began eating. The eggs were so good.

"Couldn't you have given him grains or bread or lunch meat or something? We could have divided those extra eggs among ourselves,"

"Dad, first off, you don't need any extra eggs. We're only eating eggs because it's a special treat. Secondly, Wolf will benefit from the eggs, some cholesterol is good for our bodies and eggs also have a lot of protein. Wolf is a big guy and needs all the energy he can get,"

Derek was licking his plate clean when he felt a hand on the ruff of his neck. Without looking, he knew it was Stiles.

"But he's still just a dog" his dad replied.

"Yes, but a special dog, aren't you?" Stiles looked down, questioning Derek, a smile on his face. His hand curled and he scratched around the base of his ears and neck. Derek subtly, or not, leaned into Stiles' hand. Stiles' smile grew wider.

They finished their meal mostly in silence. he sheriff asked his son about school and his friends, all ordinary things and Derek tuned them out. When they were scrapping their chairs back, he pulled his head up and looked around again.

"You return Wolf to the shelter, I'll clean up the kitchen," Stiles smelled like surprise but agreed.

"Oh, wait, before you leave, where did you put Wolf's collar and leash? I couldn't find them this morning,"

Stiles stuttered for a moment.

"I actually didn't bring one for him. I forgot to grab one and then decided I didn't need one because he will stay with me," Lie, lie, lie, and a truth, Derek's nose told him. Stiles believed that Derek would stay with him. Did he mean as he paraded around, pretending to be a dog, or did he mean in some other way? He decided that it didn't matter.

Stiles dropped Derek off at the train depot, still in his wolf form. Stiles went ahead of him, opening up the door so Derek could get inside without being indecent outside. Derek didn't mind being naked, it was actually something born werewolves didn't really care about. But ordinary humans had different standards and would stare at him. He didn't like that type of attention, he wasn't a fucking animal in the zoo.

Derek confirmed that he would be back at Stiles' house for practice at 11 am. It was 9:30 right now. It gave him just enough time to shower, eat some more and do some warm ups before practice. He had to remember that Stiles' dad would be at practice today, he had to practice restraint and control, he couldn't rough up the pack like usual.

VVVVV

Stiles anticipated that the afternoon would be awkward with his dad around but it wasn't awkward all. Stiles had warned everyone to bring their lacrosse sticks because his dad was going to be around and watching them. Derek was actually able to teach them drills using the sticks that would aide in their muscle strength and teach them some defensive attacks. They ended up parring with their sticks like swords. It was fun. The werewolves controlled their shifts and Derek looked pretty good, directing the teenagers with drills and commands. At one point he took off his shirt and Stiles tried not to stare too much.

His dad sat on the back steps with his coffee and watched for a while then went inside and would occasionally glance out the kitchen window to check up on them.

They sat around on the grass with the lunch that Stiles made in the kitchen a few minutes ago.

"What happened last night?" Stiles asked after he check to see if his dad was back in the house.

Derek looked up at him, frowning, as he suddenly remembered how Stiles disobeyed, again. He glanced over and nodded to Scott, giving him permission to begin the tale.

"We went out in the woods. Boyd had called us all the meet up because he smelled them and knew they were out there," Stiles nodded because he understood that part. "we followed their trail for a while, until we realized something was off," Scott began, picking at his fingers nervously.

"The scent trail moved all around the forest floor, circling and cutting back, branching out, then connecting again, but the scent was always strong, as if they were right there ahead of us," Derek explained, "It was unnatural. Natural scents vary in strength degrees depending on how recently they were made. The scents near the road should have been faint and the scents deeper in the woods, stronger. Last night was all wrong, the scents were continually strong. They must have done something to create that many false trails. We were confused, and that's what they were waiting for. They were actually strung up in the trees, waiting for us to fall into their trap," Derek's eye brows furrowed as he clenched his fists.

"Hey," Stiles murmured, reaching out and rubbing Derek's shoulder, "it's okay," he encouraged. Derek was staring at him with something he didn't recognize. He didn't realize what he was doing until he noticed that all the beta's eyes were looking at him with shock. Whoops. He pulled his hand back into his lap and cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Then what happened?" wanting to hear more.

"I realized what was going on a moment before they dropped to the ground,"

"He howled out a warning," Isaac added.

"Aw, what a great alpha," Erica cooed.

"Oh yeah, I heard that," Stiles wanted to add his own two cents in too.

"-They were able to get off a few shots but then we were in close range, fighting hand to hand," Derek continued as if Isaac, Erica and Stiles had not interrupted. "There were too many of them though, and because it was a surprise attack, the odds were not in our favor. We split up, the betas going in one direction, while I led the hunters in a separate direction,"

"Yeah, I heard the howling and the gun shots, those are the reasons I went out to look for you guys,"

"I told you to stay put," Derek ground out between his teeth, eyes bleeding red at the obvious insult.

"But Derek," he whined, "I was worried. I didn't know what was going on," he felt pitiful and he knew he sounded pitiful. Derek growled, lunging forward as Stiles yelped.

He was trying to reason with himself. Derek has been protecting him, why would be suddenly try and kill him? He carefully tilted his head to the side to show his neck, not wanting to do the whole thing because he didn't know if his dad was looking at them from a window. Derek paused, eyeing his neck appreciatively, letting his eyes bleed back to green. Stiles sighed in relief than squeaked when Derek bopped him on the nose.

"You need to listen to me, pup,"

Stiles nodded, thoroughly embarrassed that Derek treated him like a child.

"What happened on your end last night?" Isaac asked curiously.

"After I heard the gun shots, I got in my Jeep and headed for the preserve. Scott called and that's when Derek found me," they continued to look at him earnestly, er, shall he continue? "and then, um, we drove back to my house, and we went to sleep. Um, what else?" he paused, "Oh! And my dad saw Derek. Luckily Derek was in wolf form so I made up some lame excuse about how Derek, 'Wolf,' as I named him," Stiles smiled, using air quotes, "was a foster animal Scott asked me to keep for one night, so heads up about that, Scotty boy,"

"You named him, 'Wolf'?" Jackson spoke up for the first time, "Original, Stillinksi,"

"Well, I was on the spot! I wasn't going to call him Derek! I had to come up with something non-offensive!"

"You stayed in your wolf form all night long?" Erica asked incredulously.

"Yes," Derek replied, curtly.

"Hey, why did you stay in wolf form anyways?" he asked curiously, not that he was complaining, it was nice.

"You're dad didn't have an all night shift so I was afraid he was going to come home and see me. Besides," his eyes shifted to the side, "it's comfortable,"

"But you could've gone home and been in whatever shape you wanted to be in," he added

"I needed to stay with you. I don't want to leave you alone while the hunters are in town,"

"Oh, I knew that, okay," Stiles shrugged, getting used to the idea of his constant werewolf body guards. It was great to always have friends around, but he was starting to wish that it were only Derek on Stiles duty.

After lunch, they practiced more drills until late afternoon. Derek was the first to leave with the excuse of 'taking care of errands.' The real reason was that he was probably tired of being around them so much. He did say that he would return for the night shift at the Stillinski house. Stiles was secretly pleased.

The rest of the pack hung out longer, it was Saturday night, after all. They were lounging in the living room when Stiles' stomach grumbled like an angry wolf.

"Ugh, I wanna go to Taco Bell. Does anyone want to come with?"

They all decided to go. They laughed and joked and chose to eat in. It was a good time. Good thing no one from school saw them. People would be really confused. Society and expectations would change! Jocks, loners and nerds, hanging out all at once. Society walls would break down! They ended up seeing no one the knew, phew! society as we know it has been saved.

When they stepped out into the night however, Isaac, who was in front, stopped short. Stiles was not paying attention and bumped into his backside.

"what the hell, man?" he exclaimed, looking up. The rest of the pack filed out through the doors and stood around Isaac, Scott and Boyd moving to the front of the group. Erica had her hands on Stiles' shoulders, keeping him back but he shrugged out of her grip and stepped out from behind Isaac because he wanted to see, dammit.

The woman huntress was standing there, flanked by three men on each side, standing loosely in a "V" shape. It looked like something out of a B rated bad movie. They were wearing leather and dark clothing with stony faces. He couldn't help but say something about it.

"What are you wearing? How cliche," he laughed while her eyes narrowed on him.

"Didn't your mama tell you not to play with werewolves?" she replied, trying to be snarky.

"Lame! That was a lame come back. Sheesh," he couldn't stop laughing and she was starting to look pissed. She must have thought that would have the upper hand because of the surprise. Well, think again bitch.

"Oh honey," she said sweetly, "I think you're confused," laughing, her friends chuckled with her, "we're not the bad guys, you are. And do you know what happens to the bad guys at the end of the movie?" she clucked her tongue with her hands on her hips.

He felt someone's hands on his shoulders, trying to pull him back behind Scott and Boyd.

"It looks like the pack is out and about this evening. But where's alpha? He wouldn't leave you all alone would he? He seems to be taking an awful big interest in you, brown-eyes,"

"He takes care of everyone in his pack," Stiles practically snarled, not liking her attitude. There, he felt it again on his shoulder. Someone was trying to pull him back behind the others. God, someone was persistent. This time he was off balance and he stumbled back into Isaac's arms. Once there, Isaac began attacking his neck, rubbing his scent all over him, which although is usually fine, he thought it was kind of an odd time to do it. Maybe it was a territory thing, like marking Stiles obvious pack property... which, when put like that, made him sound like a whore. But he knew what he meant.

_Pay attention!_ He told himself, Boyd was speaking.

"- and he will not be pleased to know you've approached us," Boyd was finishing.

"Oh my," she pouted, sticking out her lip. God, does this woman practice facial expressions in the mirror? Sheesh. "That's too bad. I actually thought this would be the perfect time to have a little chat," with a subtle flick of her wrist, her men were on them.

Stiles yelped not at all like a girl, back peddling into Erica when one of the men loomed forward, reaching his arms out to grab him.

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed, trying to slap his hands away. What did the people inside Taco Bell think? Were they just watching a bunch of men attack some local teenagers? Were they not going to call the cops? Were there no decent people left in the world?

Stiles internally cried for humanity as the man wrestled his arms down, locking him in a tight embrace. The hunter's arms were wrapped tightly against his chest and Stiles' back was pressed against the man's chest. He screamed and kicked and bit, making it known that he was not pleased with this new turn of events.

However, the others seemed to be doing well, making use of all their training. Each werewolf had their own hunter to fight off, sometimes teaming up together to fight off the opponent's advances. The pack looked like angry super heroes. He was in awe at their skill and speed. Erica and Jackson had their packs pressed together, covering each other. Scott and Isaac were working as a team and Boyd was able to hold his own. He would have to compliment them when they got out of this pickle.

Stiles continued to struggle, suddenly feeling like he was a rock, stuck in a hard place. Or was it: he was stuck between a rock and a hard place? He comically stopped thrashing to think about it for a moment. Screw it. It didn't really matter what the saying was, he was seriously fucked.

As the man held him down, the woman (what the hell is her name anyways? She called him brown-eyes, maybe he should come up with a nickname for her. Sick-fuck? Ugly-shoes? Crazy-bitch? ) walked over to him and stood back far enough that he couldn't kick her.

"What does the alpha see in you?" she mused, eyes running up and down his frame.

"What the hell are you talking about, woman?" he continued to struggle but man, this guy had a vice grip.

"Why does he protect you so fervently?"

"Because I'm human?" he answered like a question.

"No. there must be something more," she paused, "You must be something more," she looked like she was going to stand there all night to contemplate it.

"Well, obviously. It's my charm and wit, and because I'm so handsome," he was trying to be suave but he was panting with excretion to escape Mr. Vice Grip.

"Hmmm," she let the sound draw out, and quick like a cat, her fist landed in his stomach. His breath was forced out, and he let out a surprised cry.

"Hm, you obviously think you are all that. I don't know why he would even want you around. You are kind of annoying,"

"I grow on people," he said in a strained voice, coughing, "like mold,"

"Hmmm," was all she replied with. He saw her fist coming this time but he could do nothing to prevent it. He cried out because, damn, it fucking hurt. She did it again and he hunched over in pain.

"Maybe he keeps you around because you're so pretty," she reflected, "you do have a pretty face..." she trailed her fingers over his skin, "I would love to mess up your pretty face. Make it so he cringes every time he looks at you," she leaned in close, "always reminding him of me and how much I broke you. He would never be able to look you in the eyes again," she pulled back and punched him again in his stomach, and again and again and again. His breath choked in his throat. He felt tears running down his cheeks. His knees couldn't hold him anymore, he slumped him forward, allowing Mr. Vice Grip to hold all of his weight.

"What? No witty come back?" she snarked.

"No, I save them for worth-while villains. You're just a bitch who needs to be put down," She practically snarled at the dog jab. Good. That might be her weakness.

He looked around to see how the pack was faring, hopefully better than him. They were still fighting the hunters, but the hunters were gaining the upper hand. Isaac looked exhausted. One of the hunters had Erica by the hair but Jackson clawed his back and he let go. They would be okay for a little while longer but not forever.

He was brought back to his current situation with another punch in his stomach. He felt like he had to do something. He couldn't just wait around like a damsel in distress for one of the werewolves to save him. Straightening his legs up and holding his own weight, he slammed his head back as hard as he could, delighted, satisfied and a little bit disgusted when he heard the man's nose crack and felt the sudden gush of blood over the back side of his head and neck. Sick, but it worked.

The man cried out in pain, letting him go and covering his nose with his hands. The hunters looked over to the man, giving the werewolves their advantage. They took the moment's distraction and beat back the other hunters, invigorated by the turn of events. In another moment, they all heard the sirens.

The hunters hustled themselves into a black SUV and peeled away from them, just as the cops pulled around the corner. He sighed in relief, for once glad to see the red and blue lights flashing in the night. At least he wasn't in trouble this time. The wolves gathered around him, touching and hugging him. It was a relief for him to know they were there, safe, and probably a relief for them too.

"Did someone call Derek?" he asked them.

"I'm going to do it right now," Boyd answered, pulling out his phone. He stepped away from them just as his dad pulled up.

"Stiles!" he shouted pulling him into a hug.

"Dad," he sighed in relief, holding him just as tight.

"When we got the call, I just thought it was going to be a gang thing. I didn't know you were here,"

"I know, we just decided to come out to eat and -" His dad just noticed all the blood in his hair and on the back of his shirt, pulling him around, trying to see what was wrong.

"Stiles! Where are you hurt?" his voice was frantic.

"Oh, uh, that was actually the hunter's- er, that man's blood, who attacked me. I slammed my head into his face,"

"Good job at using your brain,"

"You mean my skull, dad? I used my skull to crack open his face,"

"Uh no, Stiles. I meant good job at thinking on your feet and trying to fight off your attacker,"

"Oh. Oh! Thanks dad," Stiles warmed at the praise.

One of the deputies pulled the sheriff away for a minute and Stiles took the time to talk with the pack about their cover story.

"Let's make it simple and keep it to the truth as much as possible. We were out to eat at Taco Bell. When we were leaving, these people accosted us, we don't know them and we don't know why they attacked us. We defended ourselves and they left when we heard the sirens. Make sense?" They all nodded and agreed. As the son of the sheriff, he knew it was important to keep their stories straight and keep to the truth as much as possible.

Boyd was back.

"What did Derek say?" Stiles asked.

"He's coming,"


	14. Chapter 14 Serious Feels

_A/N: _

_I'm pleased to say that there is a Sterek scene in this chapter, toward the end. I know some of you have been messaging in about more Sterek, so this is for you. _  
_It was a delight to write and I hope it doesn't seem like I moved the Sterek scene in too quickly, in relation to the character development and plot. I would like to defend the scene by enunciating that Derek loses control of himself, his wolf taking over the desires. Derek will be in control in a later chapter._

_Thank you so much reading! Please let me know what you think._

VVVVV

The deputies separated the teenagers which was standard procedure, and questioned them about what happened. Luckily with their super hearing, they were able to heard each other's answers and provide their own variation to the story, supporting each other's stories with comments and remarks.

Erica put on a show, crying and whimpering. It was very believable, seeming so obvious that this was a weird, unwarranted for attack on some helpless teenagers.

It was also procedure to take them to the station for the questioning and inventory the assault. They piled in the police cruisers like good little kids and rode quietly, the whole way, even Stiles.

Derek was there when they arrived. Everyone in the pack seemed to exhale at once when they saw their alpha. Derek stepped forward and Stiles was there, in his arms, hugging him close. He didn't realize he had moved forward and he didn't have an explanation for his compulsion. It felt right. He didn't care if his dad saw or what the pack thought. He needed a hug, dammit.

Derek surprisingly, didn't fight or stiffen or recoil, instead, he held him close, subtly rubbing his face over Stiles' hair, and that's when he noticed the blood. He spun Stiles and inspected the back of his head, touching his skin so gently, you wouldn't think it was Derek doing it.

"What happened?" he questioned quietly.

Stiles let Scott explain. Jackson and Boyd were both absent, both being questioned again separately from the group. Soon they would be back and the next two would be taken and questioned again. Although they had already given their statements at the scene, it was procedure, in case they remembered anything, plus all the paper work, files and forms to be signed off on. Stiles knew they would be released soon. The incident seemed so obvious and one hundred percent not there fault.

Stiles quietly explained his side of the story, especially because the huntress focused on him specifically. He recapped what she said to him and what she threatened. Derek was quietly listening, his eyes calculating. When Stiles was explaining how Mr. Vice Grip held him down while she punched him, he gently lifted Stiles' shirt up and hissed in sympathy; the was skin already turning purple and blue with bruising.

Stiles was pulled in for questioning and they also had to take pictures of his bruises. He had bruises all over his stomach from her but they also found bruising on his arms where Mr. Vice Grip was holding him down. They would probably need to take pictures tomorrow too, to see the full extent of the bruising, but luckily, no broken bones. Yay for small miracles.

Soon everyone had been questioned and they were being released to go home. Some of the deputies were going to drive the pack home, including Stiles because his dad was going to stay late to take care of all the paper work.

"I can drive Stiles home," Derek spoke up from where he leaned against the wall. His dad looked surprisingly relieved.

"Yes, thank you," his dad sighed out and added, "And could you stay with him, you know, until he get's settled? Make sure he gets cleaned up?" he sounded so hopeful. "Actually, I know I might be an over protecting father, but could you stay until I get home tonight? It might be late, but you could sleep on the couch or in the guest bedroom,"

"Dad, I don't need a babysitter," he protested.

"Yes sir," Derek replied with seriousness, completely ignoring Stiles. Derek rested his hands on Stiles' shoulders and led him toward the front doors.

"Derek," he made an annoyed sound in his throat, "come on, you don't need to treat me like a child,"

"Stiles, think," he encouraged, "you're dad just gave me permission to stay over,"

"Oh," was all he could say.

VVVVV

Derek took Stiles home.

Stiles busied himself with evening activities. He took a shower and brushed his teeth while Derek checked all the windows and doors. Stiles had asked him to do it since it was his forced habit. If the hunters wanted to get into his house, a locked window wasn't going to stop them, but Stiles would feel better if Derek checked anyways. Also, if Derek was staying over, a werewolf was his own security system, his heightened senses like a radar for anything important approaching the house.

When Stiles came out of the bathroom, dressed in a loose shirt and cotton pajama pants, Derek was lounging on his bed, flipping through the channels on his television. Stiles sat in the computer chair and sat silently for a few minutes, watching whatever crap Derek was choosing to watch.

He wanted to join him on the bed but he felt hesitant. Was he allowed? They did share a bed when Derek slept over, but that was when they were sleeping and unaware of each other, _at least for the most part_, he thought, blushing. It had been a long time since Derek had slept over, not counting last night in his other shape, so maybe it wasn't okay anymore? It was HIS bed and he could do whatever he wanted on it, but Derek was also the alpha and always had the last say.

Maybe Derek didn't want Stiles to sit on the bed. But Derek was not sitting right in the middle of the bed; he was sitting on one side, like he purposefully left enough space for Stiles. His brain hurt. He was exhausted and just wanted to stretch out next to Derek and relax. Why did he always over think things?

Walking slowly over to the other side of the bed, he sat down and stretched out. He glanced down to the space between them, there was about six or so inches between them, that was okay, right? When they sat on the couch, sometimes there would be less space but the couch had different standards. A bed however has many more possibilities, expectations and outcomes...like sex.

He sat tense and on edge through the rest of the TV program, trying to hold himself rigid and away from Derek and if Derek thought he was acting strangely, he might just chalk it up to general Stiles weirdness. He really wanted to close the space and lean into him, rest against him, but he wouldn't. Stiles had been pushing the limit these past few days, weeks even, and he didn't want to push Derek over the edge. Derek might do something more drastic then his usual threaten and growl routine.

When the show ended, Derek turned the TV off and put the remote on the side table. He turned to look at Stiles. Stiles continued to look at the darkened TV, his body rigid with anticipation of something dark coming. He knew he should have stayed in the computer chair. He could feel, more than see, Derek watching him.

"What's wrong?" Derek broke the silence with a quiet question.

Even though Derek was quiet, Stiles still jumped, taunt like a string inside a piano, his heart skittering in his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Derek extend a hand to reach out to him. Stiles yelped in surprise, recoiling quickly, almost off the bed. His eyes were wide and crazed, looking at Derek. Derek froze and pulled his hand back, his own eyes wide. Something flickered across his face, it was fast but it looked a lot like hurt.

Stiles suddenly felt like a jerk. Here was Derek, a guy who was stony and damaged, reaching out to help him, something that would be unbelievable six months ago. He was actually being surprisingly compassionate, staying with Stiles and checking to make sure he was okay. And Stiles was treating him like a freaking murderer. What was he thinking? He tried to clamp down his beating heart and control his breathing.

Derek had his mask on, he looked indifferent but with all the times they've been hanging out, Stiles knew better.

Stiles forced his irrational fears down and moved to sit next to Derek, this time only a few inches separating them, close enough that Derek's wide shoulders brushed against Stiles' frame. Although Derek looked relaxed and comfortable, he could feel the tension.

"I'm sorry for being a jackass," he leaned his shoulder against Derek. "I'm just-" he was about to lie unintentionally. "I'm just feeling tense," he said instead, which didn't really explain anything. Derek was silent.

"I never know how to act around you," his confession sounded raw. Derek turned and looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion, hell, Stiles was confused about what that meant too.

"Er, can I sit here? Is this okay? I mean, I can sit in the chair instead," he spewed his thoughts out there into the room.

"That's what spooked you just now? You weren't sure if it would be okay to sit next to me?" Derek looked god damned skeptical.

"Er, yeah," he replied sheepishly.

"It's your house, your room. You can sit wherever you like," he paused, "I don't mind if you sit next to me," he added hesitantly, like he was sharing a confession.

Stiles beamed. He bounced closer, closing the gap between them so they were pressed from their shoulders to their knees. Ecstatic like a child, he wrapped his arms around Derek's middle and squeezed him in a hug. He let his head rest on Derek's shoulder. If someone had told him six months ago that he would snuggle with Derek on his bed like a girl in a chick flick, he would flip shit, but yup, here he was, snuggled and feeling a little too girly. With his arms securely around the werewolf, he was warm and comfortable. No wonder girls like this type of shit, it felt good.

He reluctantly released his hold, and moved his whole body back into his space, now just sitting closely, next to Derek.

"You would tell me though, right? You would tell me if I did something you didn't like? Using words? Because although I love it when you get in my space and press against me," _Shit, keep that to yourself, Stiles!_ He hurried along to cover up his slip, "It's confusing and it would go a lot smoother if you would just use your words, man,"

"Um, okay," Derek responded which wasn't a long, heart felt, warm fuzzies, 'I'll-try-better,' but this was Derek he was talking to, and it was good enough for Stiles.

Stiles reached around Derek for the remote, turning the channel to Discovery Channel. They watched a show on Africa for a while. Stiles moved down the bed a little bit so he was able to lie down on his back, his shoulders and head propped up with two pillows. Since he's been having visitors sleep in his bed, he's had more pillows available for use; he could use two comfortably while there would be an extra two available for Derek.

During a quiet commercial, Derek looked down at Stiles.

"Why didn't you tell me about the nightmares?" Since everything was being unveiled, might as well talk about this too.

"I didn't want you to be mad," said in a small voice.

"Why would you think that?" he sounded genuinely confused.

"Because it would show you another reason why I'm the weakest link in the pack," his fears were on the table now.

Derek stilled beside him.

"Is that what you think? Is that what you think I think? You don't know me at all," Stiles jerked his head to look at him.

"It's hard to get to know you Derek when you don't say very much," there was a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Stiles, you are the strongest link in the pack, even though your human," the hand that was clenched around all his hope was loosening it's hold. "Annoying, yes, persistent, yes, but so strong. You've done so much good for the pack. You insisted to hold pack meetings at your house and suggested a reasonable cover story for your dad.

"Now look, you're dad is worrying a lot less because you're hanging out with friends and he's less wary of me. You brought this pack closer than it's ever been and you keep them safe, keep our pack safe." Derek was looking at him with earnest.

"Oh," was all he could say, but on the inside, his soul was tap dancing. He liked that Derek said '_our_,' pack, once again, acknowledging him as a pack member. Derek seriously just gave him enough warm fuzzies for a month.

Derek moved down to lay just like Stiles was. Stiles, in a moment of impulse, which was not an uncommon occurrence with his ADHD, rolled over and moved to sling his arm over Derek's chest, but sucked in a breath when his abdomen flared with pain.

Derek looked at his face, his clenched jaw, furrowed brow, blinking eyes and quivering lips, reading the physical features like a book. Letting Derek push him on his backside, the man cautiously raised the hem of his shirt up to see his bruises. He strained his neck to look down at himself, it looked like his whole abdomen with splotchy blues and purples. He wanted to cover back up, he was so embarrassed this had happened to him.

He should have reacted faster, he should have fought harder. Regret, regret, so much regret.

Derek's gaze was hot on his skin and with a surprisingly gentle hand, he ran his fingers across the bruises. Stiles' breath hitched in the unexpected pleasure as Derek's finger tips sent chills across his skin, stirring desire inside his belly.

He was flabbergasted with his body's response, Derek was only running his fingers over his bruises but it still sent flames of desire alight inside of him. He cursed at himself, now was not the best time for this to happen.

Derek flattened his palm against his stomach and Stiles watched in fascination as black veins crept up Derek's arm and disappeared, along with all of Stiles' pain. What? Derek frowned and closed his eyes, dealing with Stiles' pain for a moment and then it was gone.

"Thank you," his voice was quiet but grateful.

He was surprised when Derek did not remove his hand, but kept dizzily tracing over his bruises. He clenched his jaw and willed his desire to dampen but Derek kept distractedly running his finger tips across his skin. It took everything he had not to moan.

When Derek finally stopped, he smoothed Stiles' shirt back over his chest and laid back down beside him.

Stiles tried to roll over again, this time he was able to without being in pain. He rolled over, tucking his body against Derek's side, his arms resting gently over Derek's chest. Derek's arm came up from behind held against his back. He closed his eyes and felt Derek's chest rise and fall with each breath.

"What are your nightmares about?" His heart skipped and he knew Derek could hear it because the arm around his back tightened.

"Just, uh, stuff about the hunters," he didn't want to go into details. The hand started to move in wide, slow circles on his back, soothing his fears. It suddenly felt okay to talk about the nightmares, they were only dreams, after all.

"How often do you get them?"

"Almost every night,"

"But not last night," Derek stated.

"Not on the nights you sleep over, " Stiles corrected, ears turning red, so glad that his eyes were closed.

Derek hummed in response, turning and rubbing his face into Stiles' hair. Stiles mewed like a fucking kitten, and rolled back onto his back, turning his head up to expose his neck to Derek.

Yes, Stiles was turning into a scent whore but the sensations felt so good and it turned him on to know that the wolves knew that he smelled like Derek, like he belonged to Derek. He knew that Derek only meant it like a pack thing, that he was a member of the Hale pack, but Stiles secretly wished that it meant that he belonged personally to Derek.

Derek paused. Stiles couldn't see what he was doing or what expression was on his face, but in another moment, Stiles felt hot breath against his neck. It sent a delicious shiver across his skin and his body tightened in anticipation. The heat moved across his neck, down to his clavicle, up to his jaw, then around to behind his ear. He couldn't help the needy sound that whined out of his throat. It made Derek pause and Stiles whined again, _why was he stopping?_

In another moment, a moment that felt agonizingly long and torturous, Derek's nose touched down on his skin. Finally. He ran it from behind his ear and down to the base of his throat again.

He felt Derek's body shift, lying more on top of Stiles, than next to. Stiles, wanton and turned on, opened his legs willingly and Derek settled between them, but Derek held his torso up above Stiles, like plank position. That was good, otherwise, he might he crushed.

Derek snuffed, sending out puffs of his breath against Stiles' skin; it was hot and intoxicating and Stiles bit his cheek to keep from moaning out.

He wanted to do something with his hands, anything, and hesitantly moved them up to hold Derek's upper arms. He could feel Derek's muscles, flexing and shifting, a real testament to Derek's strength and control. When his fingers griped Derek more firmly, Derek responded with a throaty, appreciative growl.

He felt some stubble and now Derek was using his whole cheek and jaw to trace Stiles' milky throat. He didn't care about stubble rash, he just wanted this, he wanted this feeling. He felt dizzy with pleasure and was glad he was lying down.

Derek turned his face a fraction and suddenly, his lips were on his throat. He planted a kiss to the side of his neck, pressing the kiss then turning his face to nuzzle that spot. He moved over and did it again, and again. When Stiles felt Derek nip his sensitive flesh, Stiles gasped loudly and strangled, arching his back and hugging his thighs tightly around Derek's hips.

Derek pulled back and was standing by the bedroom door by the time Stiles opened his eyes. Stiles felt suddenly and completely mortified. His face flushed as he tried unsuccessfully to cover up his raging boner.

"Er, uh, that was... different," he managed.

Derek was looking on with red eyes, panting and almost in his beta form, elongated teeth and wicked looking side burns. Even looking at Derek half morphed, did nothing to slow his mind down; god, he was still turned on like a fucking light, like a bright incandescent bulb or maybe like a LED, those things were bright and lasted forever before needing to be replaced. Whatever, he was turned on so much that a little will power directed at his groin was not going to turn him off again.

"Why did that happen?" he wasn't sure if he was asking about why Derek scent marked him so vigorously or why Derek pulled away. Stiles thought that he would like to hear both explanations. He sat up against his head board, placing a pillow in his lap as he stared at Derek, looking thoughtful. It was unnerving as hell and Derek wanted to get out of there.

""Do you do that to Isaac and all your betas too?" Stiles' voice sounded shaky with embarrassment, "because that was so fucking hot," Derek stared with an open mouth. _Did it look like he did this with Boyd?_ God, sometimes Stiles was really clueless.

"Really, I'm serious. I want to know. Do you do that with all your betas?"

"No," he spat out with reluctance, trying to end the conversation with a glare.

"So, er, what's the special occasion?" he persisted.

"You, your-" he tried to begin but choked. Frustrated, he ground his teeth and shifted his eyes away. Stiles continued to look at him expectantly. "You smell good," he finally ground out.

"Right, well I did just shower," he responded matter-of-factly. Derek grumbled under his breath about that. "What? You just said I smell good, don't you want to know what soap I use?"

"Stiles," he snapped, frustrated that he was even going to try to explain this, "your scent has almost nothing to do with the products you use. It's you, a smell completely unique to you. Showering does almost nothing to alter your natural scent. It's your blood, your hormones, and a combination of other environmental factors, like climate and location, that mix all together and create your own scent. So it's you Stiles, it's all you,"

Stiles blinked owlishly, then grinned.

"You think I smell good. You think I smell irresistible. You obviously can't get enough of me," _Fuck._ Now the little shit wasn't going to drop the topic. Derek couldn't help that Stiles' scent was so delicious... and he supposed grudgingly that Stiles' couldn't help it either. Stiles could have been freaking out about the news but he was actually taking it like a champ.

Stiles tipped his body sideways, keeping the pillow strategically placed, but rolled his head back and exposing his neck.

"Come on big guy, do your thing," Stiles encouraged, looking over at Derek out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" he was so confused.

"I want you to keep going. Keep scent marking me," Derek's heart stuttered, breath whooshing out of his lungs.

Did Stiles realize what he was asking? Did he realize that he was offering himself, like a potential mate would do? '_Yes_,' he wanted to say. He wanted to rub himself all over Stiles so everyone would know that Stiles belonged to him.

"No," he replied firmly.

"What?" Why not?" he whined, wiggling his body on the bed. "Come on, I want you to,"

"No," he said again.

"Ugh, Derek," Stiles whined out of his throat, "but what if some wolf from another pack tries to eat me? You know my odds. It is so likely to happen. If you scented me, he would know that I belong to y-, er, the pack," Derek growled at the thought.

"No, I can't control myself," he managed to partly explain.

"It that because I smell go good?" Stiles teased.

"Er, yeah," he felt flustered, "you smell good and it's making me-" _lose control _he was about to say but stopped. He didn't like to admit weaknesses.

When humans bare their necks to their human bed partners, it was considered almost soft porn, not even worth a blink, but for a werewolf, the image was positively obscene and his wolf was pushing up to do something.

'Take him, take him,' his wolf urged.

He didn't realize that he was crawling on top of the bed until Stiles made a happy sound in his throat. Shit. He was getting so weak willed. He had to toughen up and stop this foolishness... but after tonight.

He laid his body back down between Stiles' legs, tossing the pillow aside. When he pressed up against Stiles, he could feel the teenager's erection and it pleased his wolf. He could smell that Stiles was embarrassed, trying to wiggle in a different position but the moment Derek's breath touched against his neck, he froze, sighing and moving his hands up to Derek's shoulders again.

Derek rubbed his face over Stiles' neck and shoulders, moving painfully slowly, torturing Stiles and his ability to think clearly. Stiles made a small, needy sound in his throat, wanting more. Exhaling against his skin, Derek moved his lips painfully slow, almost tenderly, across the expanse, kissing along Stiles' jaw and trailing his lips down the column of his throat.

Derek's mouth was hot and wet and Stiles could no longer hold back his noises. His skin felt tight with arousal and he could feel his hard cock press against Derek's groin. He felt hands on his neck, Derek running his thumbs in circles over his pulse point.

Stiles moaned, long and filthy, fingers scrambling for purchase on Derek's arms. He arched, stretching his neck back even further, never wanting Derek to stop. Derek didn't stop. In fact, he seemed more wild and more rough. He kissed and nipped his skin. When Stiles moaned as Derek nipped an extremely sensitive spot behind his ear, Derek responded

with his own throaty moan, and it went right to Stiles' throbbing dick. His stomach clenched with pleasure.

It went on for minutes. His skin felt like it was on fire, tingling and sensitive to everything Derek was doing with his mouth. Stiles was begging, murmuring encouragements, and making needy, aroused sounds in his throat.

"Please, yes, _please_, Derek, _Derek_, oh my _god_, yes, yes," he murmured breathy again and again. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't think. All he wanted was for Derek to keep loving him.

Derek huffed down to the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. Nosing the shirt fabric aside, he dragged his tongue across the surface. Giving into pure instinct, Derek bit into Stiles' shoulder with his flat human teeth, breaking the skin; his wolf howled in triumph.

Stiles first felt a moment of pain and discomfort but then as suddenly as it came, it was washed over with incredible, indescribable pleasure that made him see stars. His skin felt like it was on fire, in a good way, and his mouth slung open, crying out Derek's name as he bucked his hips up against Derek's and came hot and fast inside his pants. His fingers were curled against Derek's shoulders, pulling him forward as he arched and rode our this incredible feeling.

Later he would be embarrassed that he had come in his pants like a horny teenager (well, he _was_ a horny teenager, so no blame there,) but he hadn't even _touched_ himself. But for the moment, he was just laying in euphoria, allowing himself to feel out of control. He had to blink a few times and take some deep breaths to realize that he couldn't feel Derek pressed down on him anymore.

Derek was up and standing with his back pressed against the wall again, his eyes reflecting red...again.

Derek watched Stiles from where he was, not even registering that Stiles was blushing. He just kept running his eyes over Stiles' face, cataloging all the signs that Stiles had been well loved: perspiration on his forehead, half mast eye lids, wet and open lips. The teenager looked so damn inviting.

When Stiles offered his neck to him, he took it. But Stiles' scent was so good, so intoxicating. The air was thick with lust and release, both Derek and Stiles' personal scents blending together to create an intoxicating perfume. When he had realized he had lost control, he should have left. He was still, even now, fighting for control when he realized he wanted to dip down right now and nuzzle against Stiles' crotch, soaking in the sweet smell of his release and sucking the fabric into his mouth to taste his salty come.

Derek shook himself. He didn't want to mortify Stiles anymore tonight. Dammit, Stiles was already a victim tonight, he didn't want to molest him and make him another victim. He didn't know that Stiles was going to respond so adamantly to the scent marking and he didn't suspect that his wolf was going to push for control and take over the situation.

He had to swallow several times and flex his absolute control over his wolf to push him back down. His wolf howled with triumph at their success before Derek closed his eyes and forced his wolf back, away, down. Finally he felt his eyes to bleed back to green.

"You better not do that with the other betas, otherwise, I would feel used," Stiles joked and Derek walked out

(but only to the living room since he promised the Sheriff that he would stay.)

VVVVV

When both the Sheriff and Stiles were asleep in their beds, he climbed back into Stiles' room, the lingering smell of come, sweat and their mingling scents was heady but he still slipped under the covers and spooned the teenager. Stiles, although asleep, pushed back against his chest, murmuring, then with a contented sigh, snuggled deep within the blankets.

Derek held his breath as Stiles shifted in his sleep. The boy looked peaceful and tender, his eye lashes shifting on his pale cheeks.

Derek's arms tightened around him, thinking for a moment about the nightmares. It made him angry that Stiles tried to keep that from him but he softened when he remembered that Stiles had said that he didn't have nightmares whenever Derek slept over. He swelled with pride and fierce protection.

He closed his eyes and let his breathing slow. Every inhale reminded him that he was safe and warm with pack.

He would do everything to keep this boy safe.


	15. Chapter 15 Group Scenting

The pack hung off of Stiles all week, like Spanish moss off of tree limbs. At first, he liked the attention, but after day 2, he was annoyed as fuck. Good thing next week was Spring break, he would be able to have some time to himself.

"Can you tell your betas not to be so clingy?" he asked one evening as Derek was climbing into bed with Stiles.

A few nights previously, Derek tried to creep under the covers when Stiles was not yet asleep. Derek maybe thought he was being sneaky but Stiles rolled over and whispered good night to him, before snuggling deep under the blankets. After that night, Derek started to be in the room when it was time for bed, and as if he were domesticated, he would get into bed with Stiles and turn off the light.

It evolved into a nightly pattern, almost like an old couple; they would both get into bed at the same time, Stiles snuggling down for sleep while Derek stayed awake to read, turning off the bedside lamp when he was ready.

Isaac was still staying with Scott. It worked well this way because then Scott had a pair. After a few weeks of being ordered to stay in partners, Allison and Lydia started spending more time together at the Argent house. That was probably the safest place for them so Derek didn't push it. Scott did need a new partner so Derek assigned Isaac to Scott instead. Isaac enjoyed spending more time in his new home and new room while Stiles secretly loved time with Derek.

Also the sheriff was taking all night shifts. This sleeping arrangement would not have worked if the sheriff was coming home in the evenings. He would start shift at 9 pm and come home around 8 am. The woman who was assigned to the night shift was brutally murdered by the kanima and his dad was still looking for a replacement worker. Hey, if the last person who had that job was killed while on shift, would you want that job? He would see his dad right before he left for school and for a few hours before he went to bed, allowing they to still have time together, even if it was limited.

"They're just worried," Derek replied nonchalantly from his side of the bed, not even looking up from his book.

"Worried? Yeah, so am I but they don't have to be so clingy,"

"Tell them to stop,"

"They don't listen to me," he whined.

"Maybe because you use your whiny voice? It has no authority or threat behind it," Derek responded matter of factly.

"Oh, so I should growl a little when I say it? Like you, sourwolf?" Stiles chuckled, elbowing Derek gently in the ribs before snuggling down under his blankets. He loved that when he closed his eyes, he could still smell Derek.

VVVVV

After school one afternoon, the pack came over to do homework in his living room. Stiles knew now that 'homework' was a lame excuse; they really wanted to scent him.

The betas crowded him on the carpet. They all wanted to sit next to him and pet him. He was being petted by teenagers, even Jackson was elbowing Scott to get closer to him.

"What? Come on, stop touching me," he said with exasperation. No response.

"Stop it," he said, with all the authority he could muster. his voice came out thin and whiny. Not impressive.

Derek looked like he was chuckling on the couch at Stiles expense while he was being molested by his betas.

Erica was on his right and she was cooing as she ran her hands down his chest.

"Hands! Hands!" he yelped, tugging he hands back into the safe zone from where they had wandered a bit lower.

"God, what's your problem? What's wrong with you guys?" he sighed, starting to think that resistance was futile.

"We just..." Isaac began, searching for the right words, "we just want to show you that you're okay and we're here for you," Isaac was down by his feet, rubbing his hands over his shins.

"Yup, yup," he rushed, "you're here for me, thanks. Now could you back off?"

"Uh, you might be saying that, but... we can tell you don't mean it," Isaac confessed.

"What?" shit, had he been caught? Derek was looking at him funny.

"Er, our, um, wolves want to comfort you because you smell really scared and... upset," he crawled up over his legs to nuzzle against his shoulder.

Scott was on Stiles' other side, more subtly running his hands over Stiles' thighs, like it was accidental. Scott looked a little embarrassed, like he couldn't control himself.

"Yeah," Erica added, "and if you would just sit still-" she struggled to hold Stiles' hands down, "and relaxed, and let us do our thing, we would be out of your space soon," she wrestled him down to the carpet, holding his limbs down. "A-ha! Gotcha, you wiggling little shit,"

He tried to wiggle out of her grasp but she was using her werewolf strength to keep him down.

"Relax Stiles," Scott added, "this will help you feel better,"

"Fine," he huffed in defeat and lay on the carpet without wolves descended on him, rubbing their faces on his clothes and skin. It was tolerable and they were all very brief. All the wolves took turns, rubbing their faces along his pulse points: his temple, jaw, neck, elbow, wrist, belly, knees and ankles. This time the scent marking could have almost been described as relaxing.

Stiles watched each wolf rub and nuzzle him, eyes briefly landing on Derek who watched from the couch.

When Isaac accidentally rubbed his face over Derek's bite, hidden under his shirt and halfway healed, he felt a shoot of pleasure run through his body and knew that Derek knew what had happened. Their eyes were locked together and Stiles felt exposed, naked. Stiles tried to keep his pleasure noise to himself, but he might released a little moan. Derek hummed in response, looking tense and hungry, eyes changing momentarily to red.

Isaac looked at him and Stiles was startled out of his shared look with Derek. Isaac looked like he was waiting for an explanation.

"Oh, I have a... bruise there from practice and it's a little tender," he lied, hoping Isaac didn't hear it, and also hoping that Isaac didn't think it was strange that a bruise would make him moan in pleasure instead of hiss in pain.

Derek and Stiles had not talked about the bite, why it happened and what it meant. In fact, they both would choose not to look at it. It was awkward. Stiles hadn't been touching it because he wanted to it heal but now he wanted to know why the old wound felt so pleasurable; it wasn't normal. If he touched it later, would he feel that same pleasure? Stiles thought he would try it later, when he had some alone time and his bottle of lube.

When Erica tried to dip down below his shorts, probably to get at his femoral artery, Derek growled a warning, deep and loud. Her head came up so fast, almost slamming into Jackson's face.

"Oh, uh, really? Uh, sorry," she stammered out, "I didn't know," and she moved on to safer territory. Derek had the decency to look a little embarrassed when Stiles looked over at him.

_What had that been about?_

Boyd was the last wolf to scent mark. When he was finished, he looked up at Derek who still sat on the couch.

"You're turn," he said evenly.

"I won't do it this time," Derek replied.

"What?" Erica asked, "but you should because he won't smell all the way like pack unless the alpha marks too," she was whining.

Stiles felt like whining a little too. He knew that Derek wouldn't get carried away like last time but he still wanted him to do it.

"Come on, boss man. We all had to do it. You have to do it too," Jackson grumbled as if he didn't really enjoy scent marking Stiles.

"Fine," Derek huffed, pulling himself off of the couch and knelling down on the floor.

He rubbed his fingers over Stiles' ankles and trailed them up to his knees. Unlike his betas, he could transfer his scent from the oils on his hands; it would move things along at a faster pace. He could hear Stiles' heart quicken it's pace even though it was just a light, feathery, innocent touch. He quickly lifted Stiles hand to his face and rubbed it along his chin.

Derek had been betting that Stiles would lay impassively through his scent marking, like he had done with the betas, so he was surprised when Stiles moved his fingers to caress his fingers across Derek's cheek.

He ignored the heated stare Stiles was sending him and bent over to rub his face briefly across Stiles' inner elbow. He meant to only just briefly rub his face across Stiles' jaw and neck but he didn't think that Stiles was going to arch and tilt his head back even further. Derek and his wolf grumbled in appreciation and lingered longer than he should have. Stiles' skin was smooth under his own and smelled so, so good but he didn't want to give an excuse to his wolf to take control again.

He was done quickly and he was pulling away reluctantly, his desires unfurling deep within his belly. He went back to his seat on the couch, feigning disinterest and missing the hurt look Stiles sent his way.

Stiles took a moment to wade through his feelings and yes, he actually did feel a little bit more relaxed and content. He sat back up and pulled his notebook back into his lap to actually begin his work.

"That was good," he said to the room, "but Jackson, if you do that to me in the locker room, I'm going to tell everyone that you're molesting me," he laughed, delighted to tease Jackson.

"You suck!" Jackson called across the room.

"Only when you say please," he retorted sweetly.

Derek choked.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry for the short, fluffy chapter; things are going to start tensing up soon and I wanted one last bit of fluff before it began.

Also, I am going to on a road trip for a week and a half and I don't think I will be able to update until I return home. If I have a moment, I will try to post another chapter, but I think it will be unlikely. I just wanted to give you a heads up.

Thanks for reading my story and hanging in with me!


	16. Chapter 16 Into the Woods

It was finally Friday and the beginning of Spring break.

Stiles just finished lacrosse practice and most of the guys left. Isaac and Scott were five minutes ahead of him, promising to meet up at the Stillinski house for a pack dinner. Stiles had sent them off; they had wanted to stick around and escort him home but he told them that he was going to drive straight home.

When he stepped out into the parking lot, the lot was mostly empty, only a hand full of vehicles around, which meant teachers and administrators staying late or a few students studying late in the library. Stiles was the type of person who always tried to leave as soon as possible so he didn't understand why people always stayed late, especially since it was Spring break. He had all next week to study if he wanted to, why would he waste the first few hours of freedom?

A man was just getting out of his car when Stiles was putting his bag in the back of his Jeep.

"Excuse me," the man cleared his throat next to Stiles. He looked to be about middle aged, it was hard to say. He looked timeless; he could have been anywhere from 30 to 50 years old. He had brown hair, was average built and facial features that were incredibly ordinary. He was wearing an embarrassed smile and Stiles couldn't help smile back.

"Uh, hi," Stiles replied awkwardly.

"Hello, I'm looking for the office. I have some papers to turn in for my daughter. Could you show me where it is?" he smiled again.

"Uh, just go through the double doors. The office is down the hall and on the first left. Hard to miss,"

"Oh, actually, could you walk me there? I've never been good with directions," the man tried to joke but it came out as sounding off. He sounded nervous instead but kept on smiling. Stiles thought it was an odd request because the office was literally on the main corridor and to the left.

"I actually have to head home, but it's really just down the hallway. You can't miss it,"

"No," the man went to grab his arm, "please," he gave a pained smile.

"Fine," Stiles huffed.

He lead him into the school. The hallways were empty, their footsteps echoing off the linoleum and down the hallway. Everything was eerily quiet and he began to have a bad feeling.

He led him halfway down the hallway and stopped. He could see the office from here.

"It's right there," he pointed, "I need to get home now," he turned to walk back to his Jeep but the man, Mr. Smiles, grabbed his wrist.

"Actually," the man said firmly and with confidence, "no, you're not,"

Stiles tried to pull his arm away from the stranger but he had a firm grip and wouldn't let go.

"What is your problem, asshole?" Stiles struggled, yanking his arm around and using his other hand to push the man. In response the man laughed.

"Nothing's my fact, I got you right where I want you," Stiles didn't get it.

"What?"

"Wow, Amelia said you were smart but you seem really slow. I have you now, you little shit," Stiles still didn't get it. Who's Amelia? and he certainly didn't like the language, how rude, "and then we're going to use you to kill your cute, little wolfy pack," Oh. Now he got it.

"Fuck!" he shouted. He twisted his arm and pushed his body against the other man's. He felt the grip around his wrist loosen a fraction and it was the opportunity he needed.

He pulled his hand free and took off sprinting down the corridor. He could hear Mr. Smiles curse behind him and quick steps of being pursued. The man sounded quick and Stiles was lucky to have a head start. He pushed open the school doors and jumped down the steps, only to stop short when he saw six more men and the woman, Crazy-Bitch, or as Mr. Smiles called her, Amelia, gathered in the parking lot.

They looked up when they saw him run out, each of them reaching inside their jackets or behind them to pull out a weapon. Stiles didn't even give them a chance to try and shoot him. Change of plan then. He cut across the grass as he heard Mr. Smiles slam through the doors and shout at him.

He didn't stop; he had to get away from them as quickly as he could. He ran across the field and into the woods.

He cursed his chances that they decided to corner him at school, it was a complete surprise. They must have been watching him closer than he thought because they waited until Scott and Isaac had left before approaching him. Damn. He was going to have to tell Derek about this.

He ran through the trees with no direction in mind. He only wanted to keep going. At the moment, he hated his clumsiness because it had him tripping over exposed roots, rocks and branches. He was making so much noise that it was so wonder than when he looked behind him, he could see the hunters following him.

Shit. He had to shake them from his trail. It was almost evening time and the sky was darkening quickly. You never think that the sun is moving across the sky until you watch the sun set. The sun travels down and below the horizon in less than fifteen minutes and then suddenly it's dark. It was getting darker and he was so unprepared. There were seven of them all together and they had weapons and most likely flash lights. He was so screwed.

If he turned and headed to his left, he would eventually come across Wilson Cut Off Road and he would be able to sneak into town... or he could continue straight and he would eventually cross into the preserve and to the old Hale house. Stiles tried to decide which direction would be better.

If he made it into town, he could try and blend in but they could still nab him from the sidewalk. He might try convince someone, like a deputy, that they were trying to kidnap him, but he's been known to be goofy and he might not be believable, especially since the hunters have been pretty good at blending in.

If he turned to go to the Hale house, he would run into Derek. Derek is a werewolf and would be more equipped to deal with the situation, kill now, ask questions later. Normally Derek's method was annoying and made him really angry, but right now, as he ran for his life, it seemed like a good idea.

This was how he came to the decision to run through the woods, shouting Derek's name at the top of his lungs. He heard his pursuers behind him. He didn't dare turn around for fear of stumbling. He just kept on running, fleeing from the hunters.

His lungs burned with depravity, but he had to keep going. His eyes waters and his legs tingled, but he had to keep going, otherwise all would be lost. If he was captured and killed by the hunters, his mortality would be used against the pack, his pack. Derek would be so disappointed in him. He wouldn't allow it to happen. He had to keep running.

He was in the preserve, running, he thought, in the direction of the Hale house, but he really couldn't say for sure.

"Derek! Derek!" he screamed as he crashed through the woods.

He hoped Derek was in the woods somewhere and would come and save him. He hoped that today was not the day his luck would run out.

Could Derek hear him? Was he coming to help him? Was Derek even in the woods?

Scenarios flashed through his mind about what would happen if the hunters caught him. He would be captured, beat, raped, killed. Eventually Derek would find him, find his body, that is. It hurt to think about so Stiles focused on his legs and his lungs. He had to keep on running.

"Derek!" his voice felt strained but he kept shouting out. He couldn't, wouldn't give up.

He could hear the hunters behind him, they were running too, but seemed to have more stamina and more balance, they weren't crashing through the brush. Then again, predators never really crash through the brush, only the frightened prey. Although he had a head start, he knew that they would catch him soon. He could feel his energy leaving his body, his fight depleting. It was inevitable that he would be caught, he was running and failing, breath heaving and panicking. At least he knew that when they did catch him, he would give them hell.

Without warning, he was tackled from the side, going down hard in between a couple of trees. God damn those hunters, coming up on him from the side. He assailant had pinned his body down by sitting on him and was trying to grab his arms.

Stiles struggled and fought against him. He beat his hands on the chest, slapped the mans face and tried to box his ears. He was even willing to squish his thumb into the assailants eye balls, but couldn't reach; it would be disgusting but it would give him time to get away.

"Stiles, Stiles!" the assailant was shouting his name as he tried to grab for his hands.

For the first time since he was tackled, he opened his eyes a little wider, trying to figure out who was sitting on him, it was dark after all. It was Derek.

He stilled his beating hands and forgetting himself, he fisted his hands in the werewolf's shirt and took a sobbing breath, feeling suddenly, and overwhelmingly safe, like he was going to be okay.

Derek on the other hand did not look okay. He looked like he was on the edge of control, fangs sliding over his lips and his eyes were crimson.

He ran his hands quickly over Stiles' torso, checking for injury. Finding none, he sighed in relief, allowing his fangs to slid back up and his eyes to bled back to green.

Stiles took a few more sobbing breaths. He had really thought he was going to die.

"Shhhh," Derek hushed him quietly. "We have to stay low and quiet till they pass us by,"

"You can't take them?"

"I'm flattered at your high esteem of my abilities but even I can't take on a large group of hunters with weapons. There are too many,"

Oh.

Derek was still sitting on Stiles' legs, but moved to lie over him instead. He held himself carefully above Stiles in plank position, his toes and his elbows holding him up above Stiles so they didn't touch.

"Get off," Stiles nudged him with his hand.

"No. They will see you," Stiles thought about his red sweatshirt that he was currently wearing. Although he loved it, it made him hard to miss.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something snarky but Derek gave him a look. In a moment, he could hear the hunters moving swiftly through the trees.

Derek bent his head low to Stiles' ear.

"It seems that since you stopped screaming, and making a lot of noise, they think you're hiding," he cocked his head to listen, then added, "they're going to slowly comb the woods,"

Derek's hot breath pushed into his ear and ran across his sensitive neck. He shivered. Derek looked at him quizzically.

"Are you cold?"

He shook his head, not wanting to voice the reason why he shivered, but then he paused again, realizing he was cold.

"...yes," he said hesitantly.

When he was running for his life, he was using all of adrenaline, his body not caring to send messages to the brain about being cold or not. Why does being cold make any difference to a body running for it's life? But now that his flight has ceased, he realized how cold the evening was.

Derek gave him an odd look.

He lowered his body down, relaxing his feet to the ground so his lower body was pressed on top of Stiles. Derek still had his elbows propped up, most likely so he wouldn't crush Stiles. Why take all the time to save him if he was just going to crush him?

Derek was so warm, his own heater pressed against his body. He tried not to think how closely they were pressed, at least until after the danger was over and he had some time to himself to recollect Derek's smooth and defined muscle.

He didn't know what to do with his hands. He felt nervous. He decided to rest them awkwardly at his side.

He felt kind of exposed as they lay there in the woods. Shouldn't they try and hid behind something? At least they were tucked between a few trees, partially hidden behind huge, gnarly root bases and in the shadows of trunks. If they stayed still and quiet, hopefully the hunters would pass them by.

Derek had his head turned, maybe so he didn't have to look at Stiles, but probably because he was listening to the hunters. Both of them were silent. Stiles' breath had slowed, almost to an undetectable noise level to humans, and now he strained to hear the hunters. He knew they were out there, and if they were moving slowly, they were also moving stealthily. He would bet a shiny penny, nickel even, that Derek could hear them.

Derek lowered himself all the way down on top of Stiles.

A twig snapped to their left. Instinctually, like grabbing a friend when watching a suspense movie, Stiles grabbed Derek. He hands were on Derek's hips, fingers digging painfully (for Stiles, not Derek) into Derek's flesh. It was painful but it grounded him. He tried to not make any noise.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" a man sang from a few feet to the left, Stiles' took a sharp, but quiet intake of breath, he recognized the voice, it was the hunter from the hallway, Mr. Smiles. "We know you can hear us! We know you are here somewhere! We will find you, might as well come out! We won't hurt you... much!" He could hear the man laugh and Stiles' gut twisted.

* * *

Derek could hear Stiles' breathing tempo change and could feel him tense under his body. His wolf pushed him to comfort him, to protect him, to stand up and eliminate the hunter's threat. But the wolf didn't understand the hunter's weapons and tools; it would be foolish to try something.

Derek knew he wouldn't be able to attack the hunters, or even this hunter, and protect Stiles as the same time. He so badly wished he could kill the man only a few feet away but he couldn't risk being injured or having the hunter alert the others where Derek and Stiles hid.

Scenting the hunter, he gave the silent promise that he would kill the hunter another time.

The hunter was dangerously close to where they lay. He walked slowly by, pausing and scanning the floor. Thankfully humans, even hunters, are stupid and they miss details, especially in the dark. He had only missed the two by a couple of feet.

Derek leaned down and buried his nose in Stiles' neck. He could feel Stiles' fingers pressing into his sides and could smell the acidic scent of fear. He silently scented Stiles, rubbing his face over Stiles' neck and along his jaw. When he huffed in Stiles' ear, he could feel Stiles grip him tighter.

He lay his head down, burying his nose in Stiles' neck, listening to the hunters move about. They moved slowly away from where they lay and Derek let out a relieved breath.

Derek stood up and pulled Stiles to his feet as well. Pressing his finger to his own lips, he indicated to Stiles that they must be silent. Although the one hunter had past, there were still others in the woods looking for them. They had to be very careful.

* * *

They walked side by side, as silently as possible. Derek moved stealthy, like a predator, while Stiles moved jerkily, trying to be careful where he stepped even though he couldn't see the forest ground. Stiles shivered and moved closer to Derek's warmth. He gave him an odd look,doubtlessly scenting his unease, but set his hand on Stiles' shoulder and pulled him closer.

They were almost out of the woods, literally and figuratively, when Derek stiffened beside him. Stiles turned to give him a confused look when Derek frantically turned to him.

"Run, run!" he urged, pushing him in front of him.

Bullets rang out.

Derek, if he wanted, could have escaped the forest and the hunters but he stayed a few paces behind Stiles, shielding him from the bullets. Stiles kept tripping over invisible roots and his own feet. He could hear the hunters getting closer and closer.

Snarling, Derek turned to fight while Stiles stopped, hoping he could help. Derek was a powerful and smooth beast, swinging, ducking and kicking ass.

Stiles looked around for a stick or branch that he could swing, but as he turned, he felt a sting in his neck, like a bee sting.

_But it's nighttime_, he tried to reason before he fell to the ground. Oh, tranquilizer.

"Fools," Amanda spat, "you could have hit the boy. Always use tranquilizers; they come down much faster," she explained, as if giving a lesson.

He lay awake for a few more moments, looking at the stars. He knew he should be panicking but he couldn't seem to find the energy to care, he just felt so tired all of the sudden.

Derek crouched over Stiles, protecting his body with his own, snarling and snapping at something, someone, not in his line of vision.

"Ha, look at the wolf," she sneered, "still trying to protect the boy. This is going to be so much fun. Knock out the wolf, pump him full of poison then bring him to base,"

Stiles' eyelids dropped and he fell into darkness.


	17. Chapter 17 Unwanted Abuse

Stiles woke up slowly. He felt groggy and a little sick. When he realized that he was sitting in a chair and not laying in his bed, he shook his head, trying to clear the confusion. Suddenly wide awake, he realized he was tied to an armless chair, hands pulled uncomfortable behind his back, with ropes circling his shoulders, tight enough that he could barely move his torso.

They were in a room that looked like a set from Buffy: stone walls, dark, damp, a distant musty smell that he bet Josh Whedon was never able to recreate. It was everything he expected. All he was waiting for were the hunters, probably clad in leather, accessorized with whips, severe hair lines and bad makeup.

Derek was chained to the wall a few feet away. He was stirring too, his chains clanking against the wall.

They both still had their clothes on which Stiles counted as a win.

"Derek, Derek? Can you hear me?"

Derek lifted his head. He was in beta form and his eyes were wild and red. He thrashed suddenly. Stiles jumped as Derek snarled and chomped his teeth down. He looked like a rabid dog.

Someone came in. It was Mr. Vice Grip, sporting a white bandage strip across his nose. He didn't even glance at Stiles wriggling in his bonds. Instead, he went over to Derek, stuck a needle in his arm and pushed the plunger all he way down.

"Hey, what was that?" Stiles asked. When Mr. Vice Grip said nothing, he called out again, "Hey, what did you just give him?" instead of an answer, the door was slammed closed and they were left alone.

Derek was still thrashing and gnawing at the air. Stiles was terrified, what was wrong with the werewolf?

"Derek? Derek! Please! Tell me what's wrong! Let me try and help! Please, please, please," he moaned, calling out, begging. He had to close his eyes and look away from Derek because he looked like he had literally gone crazy, thrashing, snarling, lunging and spiting with fury.

Someone poked their head in the room. Stiles turned his attention toward the man.

"Please, please! He needs help!"

The man looked at Derek and called back into the hallway.

"Hey, the alpha needs a bigger dose,"

_What?_

In a few moments another man came in with another syringe and plunged the liquid into Derek's wracking body.

"What is that? _What are you giving him_?" Stiles shouted, frustrated that everyone was ignoring him.

"Just a little something to calm his wolf," Crazy-Bitch, also known as Amelia, as Mr. Smiles had called her, said as she came through the door. "Or really, something that locks away his wolf," she smiled evilly.

Derek's thrashing stopped and he hung limp from his wrists, as if he were dead.

"I can't imagine why you would want to calm his wolf," Stiles said skeptically. He didn't like that she said, 'lock away his wolf.' It would only be temporary, right? Stiles thought that Derek would literally die if he was striped from his wolf forever; it was such a part of him.

"Oh, because if he's like this, out of control, he won't be easy to manipulate,"

"Ha!" he snorted, "good luck with that, he's impossible to manipulate,"

"You are so funny," she smiled, stepping closer, "he will, that's why you're here," _What?_ "There's something about your brown eyes that he can't resist, that always makes him come to you,"

He stayed silent, trying to process what she was saying.

"You can't deny it. We've been watching you. He's always around you, more than the other betas. You're," she paused for dramatic effect, "special. So we're going to keep both of you around for a while,"

"What is the stuff you gave him?" Stiles asked again, "tell me what it is,"

"Oh, ho ho. You aren't one to be giving orders little guy; you're the one tied up in the chair," she leaned over and smiled in his face, "but since you're so curious and the knowledge might devastate you, I'll tell you. It's a type of poison, incredibly deadly to humans at the dosage we're giving him, but for him, as a werewolf, it's enough to weaken him but not enough to kill him. You see, we want him alive when we torture you. The poison will keep him groggy, but still responsive,"

"You're a sick individual," Stiles responded, head reeling at all of her implications.

"Yes, and you're going to find out how sick I am," she said, sickly sweet, "now, let's get down to business, shall we?" she paced in front of him, hands on her hips. "He just had another dosage which means he's going to be pretty out of it for about an hour. I'll play with you for a bit, but then I'll get really into it when he starts to wake up,"

She trailed her finger nails over his face and he leaned as far away as he could.

This will kind of be like fore play before sex," she explained, whispering in his ear than licking up his cheek.

"Yuck," Stiles squirmed in his chair, moving almost not at all; the bonds had no slack to them. "What are you, a dog?"

"Oh come on, you're a little werewolf bitch, you're probably used to this, aren't you? Don't they slobber all over you?" she licked him again.

"What? No, you clearly have no idea what you're talking about," he was annoyed. So many misconceptions that he had to correct, so little time.

She hummed, leaning over from behind him to bite down hard on his ear lobe. Shit, that hurt.

"I bet they slobber all over your back when they pump into you from behind. You probably lift your ass up in the air, like a little bitch in heat, and let them plow into you, dripping their slobber all over your neck," she turned and bit his other ear lobe.

"What? No! You are seriously twisted. It sounds like you're watching some really messed up porn,"

She opened her mouth to retort back, but Derek shifted and his chains clanked against the wall.

"Oh, here comes the show," she smirked.

Derek shifted again, and opening his crimson eyes, he roared. His roar reverberated off the walls and inside Stiles' chest. Derek pulled at his bonds, stepping forward until his back looked like it was painfully arched. Obviously Derek seemed not to care at the moment, he was more caught up with being crazy instead.

She plopped herself sideways in his lap, hooking one arm around his shoulders. She ran her nails across his shoulders and chest, sending chills through his body. Her fingers trailed down and hovered dangerously over his crotch.

He was not happy and was seriously getting pissed. He hoped he wouldn't get raped but she was certainly making herself feel at home in his lap.

She leaned over and licked his face again. Grimacing, he tried to pull away but she caught his chin with strong fingers.

"Isn't he magnificent?" she whispered into his ear, "all muscle and strength. Look at his reaction to the poison," Stiles couldn't help but watch Derek, she still had a strong grip on his chin.

"From what I understand, the poison hurts like a thousand daggers when it first hits your blood stream, then it makes you feel like you are on fire, classy right? Especially because of his past? I thought it was fitting," Stiles felt sick, "Then it swims around in his system for a few hours, blocking his wolf out. That's what we want, because when I torture you, I want him so aware of your screams," as she said this, she trailed her fingers over his hair, almost like a caress. Stiles shivered in response.

"Then, as his body heals himself and he starts to come out of the sickness the poison has caused, he goes through something like withdraw; that's what you just saw earlier. He's going to be in so much pain. He'll live through it but he'll wish he were dead,"

"You are a total sick fuck," his voice was thick with disgust. All his eloquence went out the window halfway through her little speech.

"That's enough," she said, slapping his scalp. She leaned closer to his ear again. "I won't tolerate that language, especially since it makes me hit you. We have to save the abuse for when the alpha's awake, otherwise I might hurt you too much and you won't be fun anymore," She seriously had a pouty face on, that crazy bitch.

"You know, you should actually be thanking me," Seriously, _seriously_? What was she thinking. "Since the poison repressed the wolf, when he's healing himself, the wolf comes out, crazy and mad. Good thing he's chained up because if he weren't and he awoke out of his drug state, he would tear you to shreds. So look at me, protecting you, Brown-Eyes,"

"Uh, er, that's the most twisted way to think about that," Stiles said, in his best Derek's deadpan face. He earned a slap to the face for that.

"Think on that Brown-Eyes while I'm gone," she left, swinging the door shut again.

VVVVV

She returned later when Derek was groggily waking up.

"Alpha, why do you like Brown-Eyes so much?" she asked, trailing her fingers over Stiles' chest. Derek was silent, staring at her through his red eyes as he breathed heavily and loudly through his elongated teeth. She slapped Stiles' face again and Derek growled, low and deep.

"Tell me," she said again. When Derek didn't respond, she let her anger out on Stiles' face, slapping and punching until Stiles' couldn't hold his head up anymore.

"Drug him again," Amanda waved her arm at Derek to Mr. Vice Grip who stood in the corner.

Stiles feel unconscious as he heard Derek responding to the poison entering his blood stream.

VVVVV

Derek awoke when he felt like his skin was on fire.

His limbs were still pulled taunt with chains, anchoring him to a stone wall. He growled and yanked, testing their strength, they held fast. Stiles was tied to a chair, leaning limp forward, unconscious, if his slow breathing was any indication.

The huntress was leaning up against the wall, as if waiting for him to wake up.

Derek didn't try and reason with her. He didn't shout or beg like she wanted him to. He just stood there and watched her.

When she knew she had his attention, she strolled over to where Stiles was and feathered her hands over his shoulders. Derek watched her hands and felt a growl rumble silently in his chest. She slid her hands up over Stiles' head, ghosting over his buzz cut then pulled his head so it lolled back, neck stretched and exposed.

"Is this was makes you tick, Alpha?"

She fingered his neck than palmed the whole expanse, stretching her fingers all the way across. She hummed, squeezing the throat a little bit.

"Do you like it when other people touch your bitch?" Derek held back his growl, he knew she was trying to rile a response out of him but once she had what she needed, both he and Stiles were dead.

"He is a pretty boy. Soft, fair skin. Look at his mouth," she whispered, running her finger tips over them, "his mouth is delicious looking," she seemed to whisper more to herself than Derek. "but his neck..." she hummed in appreciation.

She straddled Stiles' lap. Leaning forward, she began to suck on Stiles' skin, slurping and sucking and, from the sound of it, making a big mess. Derek couldn't actually see her mouth but he could see her jaw moving and could hear all of her disgusting noises.

Derek couldn't feel his wolf, which was frightening since his wolf was always the extra presence inside him, but he knew that this sight was driving him, the human side, crazy. If the wolf saw it, he would probably bite off his own hands just to get a chance to go against the woman. She was marking _their_ human, _their_ pack member, and very possibly _their_ mate. It was so _wrong_.

She popped her lips off his neck with a noisy smack and stood up, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her jacket. Derek could see the hickey, already bruising, on Stiles' neck. It was hideously big and shiny, wet from her slobber.

"How does that look?" she taunted, "hmm? Does it bother you?" he hummed again.

Whatever she had been medicating him with was making him feel weird. Beyond the pain and discomfort, it was odd to be separated from his wolf's thoughts, a part of him felt missing.

When he didn't respond to her jabs, she huffed in annoyance. She leaned down and opened her jaws over Stiles' neck, biting down, saying in body language, that she dominated Stiles. Derek silently growled deep in his chest at the action but made no outward sign that he was upset. She growled her own frustrations and bit down really hard. Stiles jolted awake from the pain.

"Ow, ow, ow ow!" Stiles yelled but couldn't shake her from his neck. His arms were still tied behind his back but his whole body shook and wiggled, trying to get loose from her jaws. "Fuck!" he swore but she finally release him.

She smacked her lips and used her dull human fingers to claw at Stiles' chest.

"What makes you tick, Alpha?" she asked again, staring at Derek intently. Derek only stared right back.

Without breaking her eye contact, she hollered for the hunter in the corner.

"Carl! The alpha needs another dose," at that Stiles thrashed in his chair.

"No, no! Don't! Don't give it to him," he said. Derek looked at the human in surprise. Was he... defending him? Carl didn't listen and gave the dose anyway. In a moment, Derek was consumed in fire.

VVVVV

She slapped Stiles hard across his face.

"Who are the other wolves in the pack?" she asked when she paused to strike again.

"Bitch, I'm not going to tell you anything," he snarled.

"Oh, you'll tell me. I just need to figure out your trigger," she slapped him again. His face stung.

"How many wolves are there?" Stiles was silent, allowing her to abuse his face, again and again and again.

"We've seen some of the high school betas but who else is in the pack?"

"Where are the other wolves?"

"Where is the pack house?"

After a while, she became angry that he wasn't saying anything and she started to use her fist, slamming it against his face.

When he could no longer hold his head up, she left, promising that she would return later.

VVVVV

Derek awoke. The first thing he noticed besides his skin prickling like it was on fire, was that the room smelled tangy with blood. Derek zeroed in on Stiles tied to the chair. His face was red and raw. A growl erupted from his throat as he cataloged Stiles' abuse.

"Derek?" Stiles lifted his head and tried to look over to Derek. One of his eyes was bruised shut. "Derek," he exhaled, like a prayer, "I'm glad to see you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Like my skin is on fire," his voice was exhausted.

Stiles winced in response and explained about the poison and his body reactions, "and that's how she think she can control you,"

"You're being used as leverage to break me. They're hurting you to get to me," Derek explained, thinking it was obvious.

"She's using me to get to you? Why would she think that that would work? One of your betas would have been a better choice, better than me,"

"I'll keep you safe, Stiles, do you hear me?" Derek knew the words were only for comforting. He was still chained up. He couldn't do anything to physically protect Stiles from Amanda.

"Why would she think it would be me?" Stiles asked again, more to himself than to Derek.

VVVVV

She was sitting in Stiles' lap, grinding into his crotch. She was moaning and running her hands over his shoulders and neck. It really showed how disturbed he was when he didn't get hard or feel even a little bit of desire. He looked away from her, so emotionally detected from what was going on.

He wondered if he was at his emotional breaking point. He couldn't feel anything; not anger, not frustration, not sadness, he was just an empty house, shuttered and dank. He felt at the moment, like he didn't care if he lived or died. Maybe he was cracking.

She made another particularly disgusting noise on top of him. His eyes wandered the room and came to rest on Derek. Derek was watching them, watching him, in particular, his eyes connecting with his own. For once in a long time, his eyes were green and his teeth were retracted.

Amelia leaned forward and bite down on his chin, pulling Stiles' eyes away from Derek and back to her. She licked her way along his jaw then with a hand, forced his head back so she could lick and bite his neck.

There was this weird, low sound. It took Stiles a moment to figure it out. The werewolf was growling. At this, Amelia was laughing, licking and biting with more vigor. When she bit a little too hard, Stiles couldn't help but whimper. Derek responded with a louder, more threatening growl, his chains clanking loudly against the wall.

Amelia pulled back and stood up. Her crotch of her jeans were wet. Stiles felt disgust stir inside of him, his first emotion in many hours of her torture; she had gotten off at what she did to him. She used him for her own sexual pleasure, without his consent. It was almost like rape. He felt sick again.

Stiles turned and looked over at Derek. Derek was looking at Stiles with a raw expression, hurt, frustration, anger, fear, so many different ones, Stiles was having a hard time cataloging them. Without warning, Derek was thrashing and howling again, this time, not lunging at Amelia but gnawing at the air and withering on his chains.

"Give the werewolf another dose, looks like he's over due for one," she told Mr. Vice Grip in the corner and then she was gone.

VVVVV

"Maybe I'm going about this all wrong," Amelia mused aloud as she paced across their room. "Maybe I should be trying to get the teenager to talk by hurting the alpha..." she fingered her lip and let her gaze land on Stiles. Stiles was trying to not look at her, in case she could see his fear. "Do you have a soft spot for the alpha?" she directly asked Stiles. "I think you do, especially if your his bitch,"

She walked purposefully over to the door, walked through and returned in a moment holding a long, thin, white rod with a handle at the end. A cattle prod, his mind helpfully supplied, knowing that she was upping her strategy.

"What the fuck, dude!" he couldn't help himself. She only smiled in response.

Cattle prods were mostly used to 'encourage' cows to get a move on into their pen or when they are loading into a trailer but it some people used it for torture. In one way, the cattle prod was very user friendly; easy to transport, easy to use and very effective to localize the electric shocks to sensitive parts of the body.

Stiles watched with dread as she walked over to Derek, pushed the prod into his side and squeezed the trigger. Derek roared in response.

"Tell me, who else is in your pack," she directed the question to Stiles.

When he didn't say anything, she shocked Derek again in the same spot.

"Tell me,"

Stiles knew that if the prod was continuously applied to the skin, the current would cause heating and burning of the skin. Ranchers would always make sure to use it on different parts of the cow to avoid searing the skin but obviously she wasn't concerned with that. Derek was also a werewolf, so his skin wouldn't scar but Stiles bet that it still hurt like a mother fucker.

"Tell me!" she shouted, holding the current against Derek's skin longer than she was suppose to.

Derek roared, screamed and thrashed. Stiles watched with horror and Derek responded to the electrical current that pulsed through his body. She pulled the prod away and turned back to Stiles.

"Do you really want me to keep going? These cattle prods are so painful. Your alpha is really suffering. Do you really want him to be in pain?" she tried to reason with him, tried to make him feel guilty but Stiles knew her games. When he didn't answer immediately, she turned and prodded Derek again, causing him to scream out.

"If you don't tell me, I'll keep at it and his pain will be your fault," his hissed. Derek pulled his head up and looked at Stiles for the first time. His eyes were red and his teeth were elongated.

"Stiles," his voice struggled out from the pain and also to enunciate through his teeth, "don't tell her anything," and he collapsed again, head hanging forward.

Amelia walked back over to Derek and prodded him, again and again in his side. He roared and screamed and thrashed.

Stiles tried to watch for a moment but couldn't take it. He gagged and dry heaved over the floor next to him. When he was finished, Derek was still screaming.

She put down her prod and walked back to Stiles, swinging her hips.

"How could you let me keep hurting your alpha?" she pouted, "you must realize he is in so much pain. He told you not to say anything but he's so tormented, so delusional from the pain... don't think you should help him out? He wouldn't be mad. He would be relieved actually, so relieved," she was whispering in his ear. It sounded like a good idea but he knew she was trying to plant bad seeds in his brain.

He squeezed his eyes shut, rocking his body, whispering _no, no, no, no, no, no, no_, over and over again.

"No?" she hummed, "that's too bad,"

He could hear her steps move away from him and soon Derek was screaming again.

VVVVV

Derek's body looked raw. He was burned all over his torso. She at least had some sort of decency and kept his pants on but his chest and arms were covered in burn marks and cuts that hadn't healed yet. He was slick with sweat and blood and Stiles, although he felt bad for it, sent a silent thankful prayer that it wasn't him to be so physically abused. He wouldn't be able to take it.

She saved the psychological and emotional abuse for Stiles though.

She would taunt Stiles as she cut open Derek. Derek stopped really fussing and responding to her manipulation, which at first Stiles thought was a good thing but then changed his mind really quickly. If Derek wasn't screaming or thrashing, she got more and more abusive with her toys.

"Stop it, stop it, stop!" Stiles screamed as she slid her blade across Derek's chest again, his blood flowing freely from the wound for a few moments before it slowly began to heal. But Stiles noticed that with the poison in his body though, he was healing so much slower than normal.

She put down her blade and strolled over to where Stiles was tied up.

She reached over and patted his leg. Stiles saw Derek's eyes darken from green to red as his gaze narrowed on her hand. "Don't touch him," whispered Derek, there was a shadow of threat in his voice.

She smiled, her hand turning until her fingers spanned the top of his thigh and she squeezed. It wasn't hard enough to hurt but she accompanied it with a throaty half growl of challenge.

Derek roared, lunging forward and swiping his claws out. She was out of range but his chains still pulled taunt from where they were bolted into the wall.

"Ah, ah, ah," she tisked and lunged at his side with her cattle prod. Derek's body convulsed with electrical currents, his muscles buldged and flexed with the pain.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Stiles screamed until his throat was hoarse.

VVVVV

"You are so pathetic," she drawled, unimpressed, "where's your spunk? What's your sassy retort? huh?" she probed, poking the end of her crop into Stiles' cut in his thigh. He couldn't help letting out a whimper.

She had taken to using her knife on him sometimes instead of her cutting words. She cut him much shallower than with Derek because while Derek could heal quickly, he couldn't. She probably didn't want him dead just yet. If he bled out all over the floor, she might be frustrated that he died so quickly.

His whole body lolled forward, the only thing keeping him upright was his bonds.

"I'm done with both of you for now. Get some shut eye because I'll be back later," She walked out and closed the door, even his human ears could hear a bar slam down, securing the door from opening.

He lifted his head up.

Amelia forgot to administer a new dose to Derek, and it was the first opportunity Stiles had to do anything. She would probably be gone for about an hour, the usual amount of time she was absent, before she returned to work at cracking Derek and Stiles. Because she forgot the next dose, Derek would be coming out of his lethargic state and go through his withdraw, hopefully healing himself within the hour. An hour was a small window but Stiles was willing to try.

He wiggled in his bonds, determined to get free.

The chair tipped over sideways and he landed painfully on his side, shoulder jarring with the impact against the cold cement floor. At his cry, Derek's head bobbed, as if struggling out of his daze.

He wormed in his bondage, the new position not helping him at all. But when he pushed himself forward using the foot closest to the ground, the ropes around his shoulders were forced lower to his chest. Scraping his already hurt body across the floor was a painful maneuver but it pushed the ropes lower, giving him more ability to struggle and wiggle. As the ropes slide down to rest against his stomach, it gave him just enough slack for him to have hope.

He thought that maybe it had been about ten minutes before he was able to work the ropes loose enough to free his hands. His shoulder hurt from his fall and was raw from where it rubbed forcefully against the concrete as he wiggled out of his bonds. But a raw shoulder was nothing compared to having your face knocked around or being sliced open with a knife. Funny how experience can so quickly change your perspective.

On weak arms, Stiles got to his feet and painfully shuffled to where Derek was secured to the wall. He had been tied up for a long time, only being untied for infrequent bathroom breaks and for meals. He was so sore from being tied and also from being beaten. He was surprised that he was even able to wobble his way over to Derek.

"Derek," he whispered, "Derek, Derek!" Stiles frantically wanted to shake him but couldn't find any patch of skin that wasn't butchered.

Stiles reached for the manacles bounding his wrists. He tried tugging on them but stopped when he realized that if Derek, a super strong alpha werewolf, couldn't break them by tugging and pulling, then he wasn't going to be able to either.

Instead, Stiles stepped in very close to Derek. Close but just not touching him. He didn't want Derek to be in anymore pain. Instead, Stiles was trying to think of ways to comfort him.

He put his hand against his face, the only place unmarked by that woman. His skin was cool to the touch, which was bad. Because of their high metabolisms, werewolves usually feel warmer to the touch. He wondered how much of that poison was in his system.

Derek's head dropped forward until his face was buried between the teenager's shoulder and neck. Stiles could feel, less hear, Derek take deep breaths in.

"That's it buddy," he crooned, "smell my scent, it's just me, the bad lady is not here right now, it's just you and me," Stiles knew how important scent was to a werewolf. For Derek to be smelling Stiles' scent right now, pack and safety, was one of the best ways to calm Derek's wolf down and have a rational conversation.

Stiles raised his hands up and gently placed them in Derek's hair, massaging his scalp. Touch for reassurance and comfort and connection.

"Stiles?" Derek questioned in an almost silent plea.

"Yeah, yes, it's me, Derek, I'm here," Stiles cooed, trying his best to reassure the werewolf.

"Is she -?"

"She's not here right now. She forgot to dose you before she left," Stiles explained to the dopey werewolf.

"And you're-?"

"Yes, I wiggled out of my bonds. I thought we might be able to try and escape, or maybe attack her when she comes through the door again,"

"Do you see any keys?" Derek all but panted, his voice laced with pain. Stiles understood immediately and began searching the room. He found some keys hanging up the door and brought them back to Derek.

"Yes, it looks like these will do the trick," Stiles said, sliding the key in and turning them. One wrist was released and Derek's arm fell and hung limply. Derek seemed to let his other wrist hold most of his body weight.

Stiles stood under Derek while he unlocked the other wrist, so when he was released, he didn't fall straight onto the floor. He fell onto Stiles instead who held Derek's body up under his arm pit and around his shoulder. Stiles wobbled for a moment than sat him down on the floor, leaning up against the wall.

Derek groaned and Stiles' eyes quickly moved to the werewolf's face. Derek groaned again and rolled his head back, eyes turning red and teeth elongating; he was shifting into his beta form. Since Derek could access his beta form that meant he was going through the poison withdraw.

Stiles was suddenly frightened. Amelia had said that when Derek's wolf returns, he would be so crazy, that he wouldn't even recognize pack members. Dammit, Stiles work so hard to stay alive and sort of rescue Derek and now he was going to die by the hand of his own alpha. Shit, he should have remember the withdraw and kept Derek chained up until after the symptoms subsided. Would Derek try and kill him, like she said?

Damn it all to hell.


	18. Chapter 18 Minor Reassurances

Derek's body convulsed, sending tremors through his body. His teeth snapped together and his face contorted in some seriously painful expression. Moaning and panting, Derek rested his head against the wall. He looked relaxed except for his claws digging painfully into his flesh, right above his knees.

"Stiles," he gritted out, "get away from me. I don't know if I can control it," he panted out, sweating and withering.

Stiles ignored him and sat down next to the werewolf, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Stiles hesitantly rested his hand on Derek's thigh, running his thumb back in forth in what he was hoping was a soothing gesture.

"Shhh," he soothed, "you're safe, I'm here," the words were meaningless, especially since Stiles in no way could protect the werewolf from Amelia if she chose to come back in, but shit, none of that mattered right now.

The only thing that mattered was Derek. Stiles was going to be there for him as his body healed himself from the poison, even it meant Derek losing control and attacking him.

Derek caught his eyes and kept them.

"Shhh, Derek, I'm here," Stiles murmured, keeping eye contact.

He broke out in a sweat, pinkish trails running over his taunt muscles of his shoulders and back; his sweat was diluting the blood on his skin. He shivered miserably as he sweat out the poison.

"Your safe," Stiles murmured and he didn't look away from him.

His blazing red eyes held Stiles'. Stiles knew that he should have looked away but it didn't seem like a dominance contest. It felt like he was using Stiles' eyes to pull himself up from wherever the drugs had forced him. Stiles tried not to blink and break the spell.

Derek, finally, was the one to break the spell. Groaning, he hunched his body over and Stiles could see his vertebratas in his back pop out of place. His muscles in his arms bulged to incredible size and his claws elongated and gouged the cement floor.

Derek leaned over and was frantically clawing at the waist band of his jeans. Stiles didn't understand for a minute but it clicked: Derek was struggling to get out of his jeans; If he shifted while in the jeans, the jeans would trap his body and anger the already frightened and hurt wolf; they would be ripped to shreds.

Derek mewed and whimpered, trying to unbutton the waist and pull the jeans off as his body slowly and painfully morphed into his alpha shape.

Stiles leaned in, trying to help out but also afraid that he was going to get hurt in the process. He had been fantasizing removing Derek's jeans, but in his dream, it would always be a different situation, _like his bedroom_. This was not at all sexy. Stiles sure got the good hand of cards, pfff, yeah right.

He yanked the jeans off of Derek's legs not a moment too soon. The werewolf thrashed and howled, tearing off the boxer briefs that Derek was wearing. Oh well. At least the jeans were safe from ruin.

Stiles had to force his eyes to close after he saw that Derek was being forced into his alpha shape, the scariest and deadliest shape.

It was already too late to run, but Stiles wouldn't have anyway. With his eyes squeezed shut, all he could hear was the harsh panting of Derek's breath, it sounded pained and angry. Stiles crouched on the floor. He was so scared it was hard to breathe. He knew what he had to do but he wasn't sure if he could manage it.

If some part of Stiles weren't absolutely convinced that Derek, human Derek, would never intentionally hurt him, even with all the threats and pushing around, he wouldn't be able to do the next part.

Derek was utterly silent.

With Derek standing over Stiles silently, he rolled over onto his back and exposed his belly to Derek's powerful and deadly jaws. He stretched his chin so that his neck was vulnerable to him as well. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. It wasn't as if he couldn't kill him as easily if he weren't lying on his stomach but there was something worse about exposing your unprotected underside.

Hot breath moved across his skin as he sniffed his way upward. Risking a quick glance, he was caught beneath Derek's alpha shape, one front claw on either side of Stiles' shoulders. He felt a sudden panic and instinctually tried to roll over.

The alpha lunged forward with a warning growl and snapped his teeth in his face. He tried to take comfort in the growl, at least he was warning him and not killing him.

The werewolf moved suddenly, closing his mouth over Stiles' throat. Stiles held very still as his heart tried desperately to pound its way out of his chest. He finally released him, nipping gently at his chin, then slipped silently away.

Stiles released a huge breath of air, so thankful that he was alive.

He rolled over onto his knees and looked around the room for the alpha. The werewolf was tracing the perimeter of the room with his nose to the ground. Stiles watched him and was glad to see no trace of wounds. That didn't mean he was still hurt; he could still be healing. It was hard to tell with all the fur, but at least he was _able_ to walk around. If he was able to walk around, it meant that he was able to fight. Stiles hopes soared, their chance of getting out of this mess alive was looking better and better.

After Derek patrolled the room, he trotted back to where Stiles sat against the wall and sat next to him.

Stiles, without hesitation, buried his fingers in Derek's ruff and leaned his whole body against him. When Derek looked down and caught his eyes, his eyes were green.

Derek sniffed over Stiles' cuts, nosing in particular over the one on his thigh.

Derek whimpered and stuck his nose into the cut.

Stiles hissed and tried to pull away.

"Yeah, I know. I'll take care of it when we get home," Home, it was a wonderful thought.

Derek wouldn't stop though and persistently nosed the cut.

"Hey, would you cut that out?" Stiles complained than yelped when one of Derek's teeth caught on his jeans and ripped them a little.

"Hey, watch it! i know you just went through your withdraw, and by the way, thanks for not killing me like she said you would, but come on, our situation doesn't give you immunity to your bad behavior,"

Derek dragged his tongue slowly over the wound then moved back over it with short, fervent licks.

"Elch, come on, buddy, germs," Stiles complained, but then added, "oh right, you're a werewolf, no germs for you, but, dude, what are you doing?" Stiles tried to pull Derek's face away but Derek ignored his tugging hands and and kept licking at Stiles' wound.

Natural wolves licked their wounds, and their pack member's wounds, to clean them so maybe Derek was running high on instinct. Whatever the reason was, Stiles sighed in defeat and allowed the big werewolf to lick his cut. He couldn't really feel the cut anyways, it didn't hurt anymore.

When Derek pulled away, Stiles looked down at his leg and the cut was only a thin, pink scar.

"Whaaaa?" Stiles' mouth hung open, "what? Where did the cut go? What did you do? Oh my god," he exclaimed as he caught on, "you healed me with your saliva! Your saliva is part of your body, and therefore has special super healing powers too. It makes sense. You're able to heal me with your licks! That is so cool!" Stiles bounced with giddiness.

Derek had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Do this one too!" Stiles pointed to a raw spot on his cheek, near his temple, where Amelia had punched him repeatedly until his skin broke open. Derek eyed the wound for a moment, but leaned forward obligingly and began to lick the wound.

Stiles moved his hands to rest on Derek's shoulders as he closed his eyes. It felt uncomfortable at first. The wound sensitive and fresh but after a few moments of Derek's licking, Stiles couldn't feel the wound at all. Stiles allowed Derek's careful ministrations, his hands were buried in Derek's fur.

Without being asked, Derek moved on to the next cut when he was finished with the one on his cheek. Stiles' had his eyes closed because with such proximity, it would hurt his eyes to focus on something so close to his face. He only carded his fingers through the fur and hummed in appreciation. Derek moved over all of Stiles' face, licking and healing.

At one point, he was working over a cut on his chin and more than once, his tongue would touch the edge of, or the side of Stiles' lips. It gave Stiles little shivers of pleasure running through his body.

If was funny that in one moment he was freaking out and scared for his life, and in another moment, with just the right person, he was hot and turned on. He didn't want to over think it because he would hate to admit to himself that bestiality was turning him on a little bit, especially when Derek's tongue ghosted over his own.

But you couldn't tell yourself to not think about something because the minute you do, you start the think about it, especially in Stiles' case. He was suddenly aware of how close they had gotten. Stiles was almost pressed to the alpha's chest, his hands resting on Derek's shoulders as he carded the thick fur through his fingers. Derek had his claws gently wrapped around Stiles' hips, securing him closely.

Stiles could smell Derek's musk, thick and heavy, intoxicating Stiles which caused his mouth to fall open with headiness. With his sudden movement, Derek's tongue missed it's mark.

It slide over Stiles' bottom lip, grazing his lower teeth and brushed, hot and wet against Stiles' own tongue.

Stiles moaned, curling his fingers tighter in Derek's fur as he felt his body slowly awakening with arousal. His eye lids fluttered open and he found himself staring into Derek's shocked green eyes but he hadn't pulled away which was a good sign.

It was interesting to watch Derek's eyes change color. Green meant that Derek was in full control while red meant the wolf was more present. Stiles saw the red eyes whenever Derek was in an extreme mood, like extremely angry, or extremely aroused. During his extreme moods, his instincts were more in control and therefore, the wolf was more in control.

Stiles slicked his lips wet with his tongue and Derek tracked the movement with his eyes. He left his mouth open and watched Derek through his half opened eye lids, heady with arousal, and hoping that Derek would do it again. Derek's big, black nose twitched and almost immediately, his pupils, rimmed with now red, were blown wide. He leaned in closer and Stiles froze, not wanting to startle the werewolf and break the moment.

Tentatively, Derek pushed his tongue out and touched Stiles' lips. Stiles moaned and opened his mouth like an invitation.

Derek moved his head closer, taking a moment to sniff Stiles' jaw line, before again, tentatively licking Stiles' wet lower lip, tongue curling up and pushing into Stiles' mouth. Stiles darted his tongue out, his tongue touching Derek's and he moaned, low and filthy.

Derek startled backwards a few feet and stood crouched, watching Stiles through eyes that were swiftly changing back to green.

He knew that this was the worst time to develop a new kink, especially since they were still in danger. He would remember this for another time when he was alone in his room, but right now he had to focus and be proactive about their current situation. He didn't know how long that had been left alone but Amelia would eventually be coming back.

"Okay," Stiles pushed air noisily through his mouth, " come back over. We have to develop a plan of action," when Derek hadn't moved closer, Stiles said, "oh come on, I promise to keep my body to myself, but to be fair, you did start it,"

Derek crept back to Stiles and sat his rump down. He smelled so good that Stiles had to grip his hands together so he wouldn't break his promise.

"So, here's what I'm thinking..." Stiles began, going into detail about what he thought they could pull off.

Derek flattened his ears back, showing his displeasure.

"I know buddy, but I think it would really work,"

Derek responded by raising his lip to show that he thought it was a terrible idea.

"What? I don't think it's a bad idea. Hey, it's better than nothing," Stiles defended, "do you have a better idea?" Derek sneezed.

"Great, it's decided then," Stiles stood up than suddenly looked really hesitant, "if it goes as planned, will you, um, eat her?" If it were possible, Derek was able to convey disbelief on his werewolf face, raising his eyebrows up so high.

He paused and shook his fur like a wet dog. Before his eyes, Derek began to slowly shift back into a human, bones cracking and realigning themselves for his new human shape. When he was finished, he was standing very naked and very annoyed.

"I don't eat people, Stiles," he remarked, bending over to pick up his jeans off the floor. Stiles did not check out his naked ass, nope, not at all.

"So, what do you think about the plan?" his voice was eager.

"I think it won't work," Derek grumbled but it was the only thing the two of them could think of.

* * *

A/N: I hope this chapter makes you feel better, Derek didn't kill Stiles, yay! Life's small victories! One obstacle down, a few more to go.


	19. Chapter 19 Confessions

A/N: Thanks for hanging in with me and I apologize for not updating on time. I had a great road trip and was able to update while on the trip, but the moment I'm home, I felt uninspired to write. Huh.

I think it has to do partly with one of my friends. I lost a friend recently, not the oh-my-god-she's-dead type of loss, but she decided we weren't friends anymore after she learned that I write Teen Wolf fanfic. Well, huff! Our relationship was superficial if she wasn't able to accept me for who I am.

You wouldn't be wrong to say that I was pissed. I listened to some loud music, stomped around my house, ate some chocolate, bitched about it to another friend, and now I'm feeling better. Soooo, I'm back in the saddle again!

* * *

Derek walked with Stiles back to his chair and loosely wrapped the bonds back around his torso. Derek didn't tie the ropes, but tucked them so it looked like they were still secure. They expected her back at any moment and they had to be ready.

Stiles closed his eyes and leaned his head back, exposing his vulnerable and deliciously milky neck. Derek's wolf whined, but Stiles' position would draw her attention since she had not been masking her lustful attraction to the teenager. Hopefully she would be so distracted by Stiles, that she wouldn't notice his loose bonds or that all her ugly marks were healed on his face. Derek still thought it was a shitty plan.

When she walked through the door, Derek heard her take in a breath and her arousal grew as if she called it into her with each breath she took. She closed the door but kept her eyes on her prize, not noticing Derek's eyes gleaming in the shadows where he hid behind the door.

She hadn't even checked on Derek. It was a cocky move, but then again, they had been captive for what seemed like a long time, maybe a day and a half, and she was probably getting a little too comfortable, a little too secure about their situation.

She slinked toward Stiles.

"My, my, what a delicious gift, a perfectly spread temptation that I'm going to have to take advantage," she all but purred. Stiles jumped and lifted his head up when she sat down in his lap.

"Have you been a good boy?" she crooned, "mommy wants to reward you," she whispered as she leaned in and licked one long strip up his neck.

She slide her hands over his scalp and grab his short hair, tugging his head back at a painful angle. Stiles struggled and whimpered.

Derek wanted to step in but couldn't until he was certain her full attention occupied, stupid plan. He glowered as he watched her defile Stiles' delicious scent.

She licked strips up his neck.

"Soon," she murmured into his neck, "you'll smell like me and the alpha will break. You will be mine. He will have to watch me take you," her scent of arousal choked Derek. "he will watch me ride you and break you before I slash your throat," she laughed and ticked his chin, "then your alpha will be mine. He will be a great werewolf to destroy,"

While she held Stiles' head back, exposing his neck, her other hand slipped up and grasped his neck, squeezing. Stiles gasped and choked. From where Derek stood, it looked like he began to move his arms to push her off, but stopped, as if remembering that he was suppose to still be tied up.

Derek knew that she wasn't going to kill Stiles, at least not yet anyways, so she should be letting up her hand soon.

Derek watched and waited, his wolf clawing his insides as they watched Stiles struggle against her. She was probably experimenting with different pressures because sometimes Stiles was frantic, but then would relax under her grip.

It seemed like she stopped playing around because Stiles visibly began to thrash more again her, raising his arms weakly to push her away, running on instinct to save himself, even if it blew their cover of him being tied up. She must have been so into the moment that she didn't realized that he was still suppose to be tied up. Stiles' fingers grappled on the hand that griped his throat, but Stiles couldn't find purchase. Stiles was choking, possibly dying and she was just laughing.

Derek couldn't hold back his rage any longer; he roared in fury. With a lunge, he leapt out of the shadows and knocked her off Stiles. She flew across floor; a distinctive crack of bone could be heard as she thumped against the wall at an unusual angle. She screamed and grabbed for her leg. Derek could smell blood. The break was so severe that her fibula was protruding and resting at an unnatural angle.

Derek made a mental note to drink more milk then stopped, realizing that that was something Stiles would say. Damn. The boy was really getting to him.

From his swipe, Stiles also was knocked back, out of his chair, but he was able to use his arms to cushion his fall. Derek took a moment to run his eyes over Stiles, who was gasping loudly and rubbing his neck, but when Stiles prompted him with a hand wave, he turned and stalked over to where she lay prone.

When Derek rolled her over onto her back, she was laughing hysterically. Her reaction was puzzling, but he didn't worry. She wouldn't be laughing in a moment when he killed her.

He had his claws elongated, ready to eviscerate, but he paused when she spoke.

"They're going to come looking for me, you know. They're going to notice I've been gone for a while or they might have even heard me scream," she sounded for the first time, almost panicked, trying to raise her body up on her elbows.

"I don't care,"

"Even if you kill me now, my friends are going to come in and they'll kill you," even though she sounded smug, Derek could smell her fear. She was trying to pull herself away from him, using her elbows.

"By the end of the night, I'm going to kill all you're little friends, no need to worry. It will send a great message to all the other hunter freaks out there who think they can mess with my pack,"

"Do you know how many packs we've killed?" she shrieked, "Eighteen! We've destroyed eighteen, strong packs. How the hell did you manage to get the upper hand?! You and your mangy, small pack; you're only a fraction of the other packs we've put down," she spit. She was slowly pulling her broken body across the floor toward the door. She might have thought she still had a chance but Derek knew her time was up.

She was still ranting, talking like they weren't even there. Derek was watching her without emotion.

"We even captured the alpha and his fuck buddy, I mean, come on, easy win," Stiles made a noise in his throat from across the room. Derek turned to quickly to look at him, the teenager's eyes were wide.

"I never can understand why werewolves are so protective over their human members. Ridiculous! You are just a mangy mutt, how do you even know what loyalty is?" She questioned but didn't allow any time for a response, instead continued, "I mean, if you were smart enough, you wouldn't be here right now. But then again, who said werewolves were smart. It's not like you care for him, love is an impossible emotion for werewolves," she stopped and her eyes went wide. "Wait a second, that's it! You have feelings for him," she looked smug.

"Pack takes care of pack, we're a family" Derek didn't like explaining things to this bitch. He wanted to kill her and be done with it but he was suddenly feeling curious. She had a interesting reaction to his statement. A physical recoil but she was trying to dampen her emotions, smother them like putting out a fire. There was something here, something the hunter was hiding. It was something below her anger, buried deep. Yes, he was still mad as hell but just a little bit curious, enough to let her live for a few more minutes.

He said it again, using the words like a prod, "pack is family and family is pack,"

"Bull shit!" she screamed in his face, "Once my sister was turned, she left! She left me! She was all I had and she left me! I was only 15! Family doesn't matter to werewolves, you're just a bunch of animals," She sounded angry but her scent gave her away.

"You're jealous," Derek revealed, "you're jealous that your sister was changed, and got the gift and you didn't," Now look who was smug.

"Jealous!" she screamed indigently, "Jealous! I would never be jealous you! You're a disease!"

Derek didn't care anymore. He almost felt bad for her; she was abandoned for reasons unknown and he knew how hard it was to have no one left. But how you react after a terrible situation, defines who you are. Like he said, he _almost_ felt bad for her.

Even from her shitty life experience, she was a murderer. If he didn't kill her now, she was going to keep coming back for them. He would not allow this threat to live.

With a quick flip of his wrist, he dragged his claws across her throat, digging in deeply and feeling his claws scrap across the bones in her neck. Blood ran thickly down her neck and pooled on the floor. She gaped and gurgled, dying quickly in front of his eyes. He watched dispassionately, finally satisfied that the threat had been eliminated.

When the light was gone from her eyes, he stood quickly, wiping his wet hand on his jeans. He turned and saw that Stiles was standing a few few back, his eyes on the dead hunter. When Derek moved toward him, Stiles' eyes moved up to Derek's face. Derek's eyes gleamed red with satisfaction of the kill. His pack was safe now.

Stiles had a deadpan face on but Derek's nose gave him all sorts of information on what he was feeling: anger, hurt, disgust but mostly relief.

"Remind me never to call you a dog again, I don't want to end up like her," Stiles forced a laugh but it sounded hallow.

Stepping right up to Stiles, the alpha leaned in, burying his face into Stiles' neck, scenting him; Stiles moaned softly, unable to control the sound.

He wanted to reassure Stiles that the threat was over, that he was safe. He wanted to hold him in his arms and kiss away the frowns and the worry sitting in the corner of his eyes, but he couldn't. The words were stuck in his throat. Stiles was only here because of him. He got hurt because of him. After they were safe, Derek was going to try and cut ties from the teenager. He felt guilty because this was all his fault.

At the moment however, Derek and his wolf wanted to reassure the boy and let him know that he was safe now. while he couldn't do it with words, he did it with his body.

The wolf's hands moved quickly over Stiles' body, checking for injuries. Derek licked a long strip of Stiles' neck, starting at the collar bone and ending at the boy's chin. He could still smell her on Stiles' skin and he took a few minutes, busily erasing her scent and covering him with his own. He licked in long strips then in short, fervent, fast licks. His teeth ran over the boy's neck carefully and Stiles shuddered out his breath. His eyes were closed and he threw his head back to give better access to the wolf. He gripped Derek's shoulders and Derek felt him lean in when Derek pulled away.

"We need to get out of here," Derek said, crossing his arms over his chest to physically keep his hands to himself.

"Yup, good idea," Stiles replied, eyes darting around the room but avoiding the big mess on the other side of Derek.

"I can feel the pack close by. I think they know we're here... wherever here is. I've been feeling them since... well, since I came out of my daze. But if I can feel them this strongly, they can feel us too," Stiles smelled hopeful.

"So, we just need to get out," Stiles mused. "can you sense where the other hunters are in the building?"

"There are two right down the hall and the rest are moving around in the building some place," he paused, concentrating, "I count seven,"

Stiles was looking at him in some sort of awe.

"What?" Derek asked defensively.

"Well aren't you like a little radar," he said fondly, " How come you can specifically tell me where the pack is but not all the hunters?"

"I don't have a deep connection with the hunters,"

"Okay, so, are we just going to go out there and hope for the best?" Stiles looked skeptical. "Can you, uh, communicate with the pack and tell them to attack from the outside, while we attack from the inside? That way, things will be a little bit more chaotic and easier to over whelm the humans, especially since there will be no warning,"

Derek blinked at the boy.

"That sounds... good," he was surprised.

They walked to the door and Derek slowly and cautiously pulled it open.


	20. Chapter 20 Wrapping up the Mess

A/N: I apologize for again, not posting on time. I keep going on spontaneous, short trips which is great, that's what summer is for, but it also means I have no time to write. The next chapter will be longer, I promise.

* * *

The hallway was dark, and looked much like the room did, dark, damp and depressing.

Stiles had only been outside the room a few times when he was taken to relieve himself but since they didn't feed him very much, he stopped needing to go. They hadn't been taking Derek out, but they also hadn't been feeding him.

Derek turned left and silently moved down the corridor. His feet were silent and he was intently focused on what was ahead. Stiles didn't know why Derek chose to go left, maybe the air smelled fresher in that direction, or he heard someone or something, or maybe he was just making a blind choice.

"Stay behind me," he murmured.

Yup, no worries there. This time Stiles was a-okay with Derek to go first, since he after all, had the quick reflexes and the ability to do more bodily harm.

He crept behind Derek, like a good pack member.

When Derek stopped, he stopped. He turned around and leaned his head in to whisper.

"There are two men ahead," his voice was low. Derek's mouth was so close to his ear, that Stiles could feel is brush up against his shell. "stay here," Stiles opened his mouth to argue. He didn't want to be left behind in a creepy hallway. What if someone came upon him?

As if sensing that Stiles was going to rebut, Derek added, "please, Stiles,"

Stiles only agreed because of that 'please.' That word didn't seem to be in Derek's vocabulary so it meant something if he chose to use it.

He watched Derek creep silently ahead. Stiles pressed against the wall and tried to breath quietly. It was difficult when the darkness began to press in. It felt like someone was watching him and his skin itched. His chest felt tight and he sunk down to sit on the filthy floor; this way he was able to clasp his hands over his knees, holding his body in a hug. It was slightly reassuring but he still felt panicked. His eyes rolled, searching the darkness for an enemy, someone, something, to make his fears legitimate, that he really wasn't freaking out and going crazy over nothing. He could hear a noise, harsh breathing and whimpering coming from the corridor, but he couldn't see anything.

Was a hunter down that way, torturing someone else? Did they have other captives? Was Stiles in more danger than he and Derek realized? Would Derek be able to come back for him?

It took him a full minute of panicking to realize that he was the one making the noises. He sucked in air and heaved a sobbing breath. He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

As he tried to calm his racing heart, he could hear sounds of a battle, echoing down the corridor. Although it was unpleasant, (he knew the carnage of werewolf battles first hand,) it distracted him enough him from the darkness. Each bang made him flinch. He burned to know what was happening and who was making those terrible pained noises, but he waited, chilled and pressed against the wall.

When Derek retrieved him, Stiles felt a deep, unbelievable relief. Derek was back. He came back for him. He wasn't going to die alone in the tunnels. Derek tugged him to his feet and Stiles stumbled forward into a hug. He wrapped his arms around the werewolf and was surprised, but shouldn't have been, when he felt Derek return the hug.

Derek led him down the hallway while Stiles tried his best to not look at the carnage. It was like a messy jig saw puzzle, he didn't understand how all the pieces fit together.

They didn't meet any other hunter for the rest of the way through the building, but when they opened the door, seven heads swiveled to look at the escapees, alarm read clearly on their expressions. It looked like they were just coming back from buying supplies because they were unloading boxes and bags from the back of a white van.

Derek threw his head back and howled, a wolf's song rising from his human throat. For a moment, the eerie sound rose, echoed and died away into silence, but not empty silence, more like the deadly quiet that precedes the start of the hunt. When he howled again, he was answered by every werewolf within hearing distance. Stiles could feel the song surging in his throat but he knew better than to sing with the wolves. They stood in the moonlight which seemed somehow brighter than it had been moments ago.

Derek stopped and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, Stiles could almost see the strength pouring into him.

The entire pack rushed in, some choosing to run on two legs, others, like Scott, looped on all fours. They moved quickly through the sparse trees, their alpha and pack mate their destination. The moment was exhilarating, even with the obvious threat of the hunters, now out of their shocked daze and reaching for their weapons.

With a noise from their alpha, the pack made a quick detour, quickly, efficiently, and maybe a little bit vengefully decimating the remaining the hunters. It was a quick battle, surprise on the their side.

The wolves sniffed the carnage, took a moment to check for injuries, then quickly, like moths to a light, the wolves gathered in around their alpha and pack mate and rejoiced.

The pack surrounded Derek and Stiles, humming in their throats. Stiles felt the wolves press against him, crowding him, petting and rubbing against his body. Their eyes were golden, showing Stiles, that at the moment, they were more wolf than human. Stiles would have made a joke if he wasn't so god damned thankful to see them.

He hugged each wolf in turn, following their model of example, hugging and rubbing his face on them.

At one point, Stiles looked to the alpha, and with red eyes, he was watching him, earnestly without blinking.

When Stiles administered hugs and face rubs to the whole pack, even Jackson who uncharacteristically didn't give him crap about it, he went back to Derek. He had his arms up and circling Derek's neck, when the alpha slipped his arms around his waist and pulled him in close.

Derek's nose was immediately pressed into Stiles' neck and Stiles in turn, moved his face over Derek's chest, scenting him. After a long moment, and with reluctance, he pulled apart.

Erica was clinging to his back while he felt Isaac and Jackson press in from his sides. It was like a giant, warm hug. It would have been more cheery and comforting if he wasn't stepping on bits of bodies.

He didn't even yelp or call out when Erica patted his ass. Yup, it was good to be back.


	21. Chapter 21 Home At Last

Enjoy the last chapter!

* * *

Scott had covered for Stiles' two day absence with a camping excuse. That's right, those crazy hunters had them for two fucking whole days, forty eight hours. Stiles and Derek were taken Friday after school and they had managed to break out on Sunday evening. No wonder Stiles felt exhausted.

Scott told his dad that Isaac and Stiles had gone exploring slash camping. It was Spring break so even though his dad was pissed that Stiles hadn't told him himself, or made the camping plans ahead of time, he was mostly off the hook since he didn't have to go to school.

The pack was coming over Monday for a celebratory sleepover, with a movie and snacks and everything, but right now Stiles enjoyed his peace and quiet. It was surreal to be back at home, safe, while only a few hours ago, he was locked in a room, frightened every time that door opened. It was the little, every day things that were bothering him: the darkened hallway, the curtains moving in the breeze, and especially when his dad burst into his room without knocking. Stiles was on edge, hyper-vigilant and hypersensitive. If his dad noticed the change, he didn't say anything.

He lounged on his bed, front side pressing down into his comforter, reading the graphic novel version of The Odyssey while he drank some black tea, loaded down with sugar and cream. When he was boiling the water, he tried not to flinch when the stove's pilot light clicked, but it sounded like the electric current in a cattle prod.

He could get the caffeine from almost anything, soda, coffee, chocolate, but he chose the tea because he wanted the taste, a reminder that he was home. Black tea with the fixings always reminded him of early mornings in the kitchen with his mom or late afternoons with a book. It was as comforting as the smell of pages from a book or the soft whirl of the fan on his lap top. It was comforting and something that Stiles desperately needed right now.

He enjoyed reading this comic even though Odysseus was always in deep shit. The guy would always defeat a monster or complete a difficult task, but then something even worse would happen. Sometimes he felt like Odysseus; this supernatural shit never seemed to quit in Beacon Hills and Stiles always seemed to be right in the middle of it. It was like he was living on the Hellmouth.

A breeze stirred the curtains and Stiles flinched when a pair of boots attached to a pair of legs, and a dark body slid in through the window. Once he realized that it was Derek, his racing heart calmed. Stiles kept his eyes on the other man's face and scooched over on the bed, silently inviting him to join him. The werewolf looked over at him, taking in his silent demeanor and shrugged off his jacket, toed off his boots and sat down on the bed next to him. When Derek lay down next to him, Stiles moved the book so they both could read it.

This was good. It was quiet and he was hanging out with Derek. He was still trying to get his mind over the fact that he enjoyed hanging out with Derek Hale. Their friendship started out on the wrong foot and it was mostly Stiles' fault. He was man enough and humble enough to confess that if he hadn't gotten so involved in the werewolf's business and allowed Derek to be a role model to Scott without him interfering, then maybe they would have been friends earlier on. He also hinder their friendship with a couple pesky accusations of murder, whoops. Water under the bridge now.

Moving past their unfortunate first few months of their relationship, Stiles thought he could say with confidence that they were friends. Yes, Derek still made stupid decisions that annoyed and frustrated Stiles, and in turn, he could admit that his constant chatter and disregard for authority drove Derek to be aggressive and reckless. Even so, they had some sort of shaky truce that turned into a grudging alliance that developed into a friendship. Yeah, that still fought and got on each other's nerves, but friendships aren't perfect.

He trusted Derek. He trusted Derek like he trusted Scott, and maybe when dealing with monsters and witches and hunters, he trusted Derek more than Scott. Not to bash on his bestie, but Scott was always with Allison, leaving him and Derek to deal with the new monster in town. Because of this, the duo was always saving each others asses and therefore, trust and bonding.

He found himself thinking about Derek a lot, thinking of funny things to tell him and seeing things that reminded Stiles of the grumpy werewolf. He also found himself turning to him for advice and when he felt insecure or upset, turning to him for comfort. His hugs were warm and his presence at night chased off nightmares. It was a funny realization. With everything that Derek has done for him, how could he not grow some fondness for the constipated werewolf?

Fully distracted now and unable to focus on the story, Stiles bookmarked the page and closed the book, pushing it off the bed as he rolled onto his back to stretch.

His whole body ached. Luckily Derek healed all his cuts, but he still had a lot of deep tissue bruising that wasn't going to get better soon. He would be sporting these nasty bruises for about a week before they stopped being tender and would begin to fade. He moved his arms above his head, pushing, pulling, stretching the stiff muscles in his arms, chest and legs. Finally resting, he relaxed his body and lay still, watching Derek watch him.

Moving slowly, and with no surprise to Stiles, Derek leaned over and rubbed his face in the teenager's neck. Stiles moved his hand to cup the back of Derek's head while he stretched his neck out more, arching with invitation. Derek grumbled in appreciation and moved faster, rubbing his cheek against Stiles' throat.

It was delightful but ended too soon. Derek pulled away reluctantly, his eyes guilty.

Derek wanted to keep going, he wanted to saturate Stiles in his scent so much that no one would doubt that the teenager was his. He wanted the boy to be his and was so easy to do when Stiles crooned and arched and bared his neck to him. It was more than just showing submission to the alpha, no, Stiles went beyond that. If he was just showing submission, he would tilt his head or bare his neck for only a moment, long enough for him to acknowledge his dominance. Stiles however, was doing so much more. Stiles was doing what a bitch did to her mate. He was asking for Derek to mark him, telling him that he would belong to him if he asked.

Derek had already asked. He asked when he bit and licked and rubbed his scent into Stiles, longer than what he would do to one of his betas. Stiles unknowingly accepted by whimpering like a pup and arching and stretching his neck out further. His wolf already thought of Stiles as his own and he was not happy that Derek was trying to pull away and back off of the human.

That's why the hunters had targeted Stiles specifically. They knew, most likely through observation, that Derek thought of Stiles as his. It was obvious that they had some sort of special bond once they were held prisoner together. Their reactions could have been seen as something an alpha and human beta would do anyway, but because they had been watching Stiles, scouting his behavior and reaction, they knew that he and Stiles had a special bond, more so than an ordinary beta.

With their special bond, Derek felt even more guilty that he was taking advantage of Stiles. Stiles didn't really know what he was doing; if he really knew, Derek was afraid that he would pull away and be frightened. That was the last thing Derek wanted Stiles to be, frightened of him, but it felt like he was lying if he kept this to himself.

Maybe if he could keep Stiles away, Stiles would first of all, be much safer, but also he wouldn't be committing himself to unknown relationships.

They were too close. His wolf wanted Stiles so badly that it hurt but human Derek thought Stiles deserved better. The teenager needed to find a nice human to distract him and settle down with. He would be safe. Derek would suffer from the loss but eventually he would get over it, especially if he knew that Stiles was safe and happy. Over time, his wolf would stop craving for Stiles' scent. Finding another someone to love would be hard and it might not even happen but he needed to do this. He needed to keep Stiles safe from harm.

"What?" Stiles questioned.

"What?" Derek echoed, seeming confused.

"What's the matter? You have that face,"

Derek opened his mouth to protest but then decided maybe he could confess partial truths. He would tell Stiles, even if it meant Stiles being angry or not wanting to hang out anymore. He deserved the truth even though it would hurt both of them.

"You keep getting hurt," Derek confessed, "because of the pack,"

Stiles blinked owlishly for a moment.

"So? It happens,"

"Exactly, it happens when you hang out with werewolves, with the pack,"

Stiles was quick to connect the dots.

"Are you kicking me out of the pack?" his voice was hitched as he circled his fingers around Derek's bicep. Derek could smell the panic rising like the tide at the beach. His wolf pushed at the corners of his mind, howling to stop this, to stop these words and thoughts that were causing pain to their human.

Stiles' eyes implored him, and Derek, feeling guilty, looked away and sat up, running his hands through his hair and over his face, as if it were possible to rub away the worry and tiredness. He could feel Stiles' hand reluctantly slip off his arm. If he could, if he didn't feel so god damned guilty and responsible, he would clasp Stiles' hand to his arm, and beg him never to let go; but he couldn't. It was his fault Stiles got hurt. This always happened and the knowledge that it was his fault made his chest ache, although not an uncommon feeling for him, it still hurt.

Stiles thought he was trying to kick him out of the pack, like it was his choice to decide who was in the pack and who wasn't. Well, in a way, he did have that power, but not over Stiles. Not because he was human, or weak, like Stiles thought. Rather quite the opposite: Stiles had gotten under his skin and buried deep past all his defenses. The kid was kind and all kinds of crazy brave. His heroism has saved the pack, saved Derek, on more than one occasion. Derek could never kick him out of the pack because he was so ingrained as a pack member, that it would be like ripping apart the pack. He was the pack. Without him, there would be no pack.

Stiles pulled himself into a sitting position too, folding his legs underneath him and clasping his hands tightly in his lap. He looked insecure and hurt.

"No," Derek said finally and tried not to notice how Stiles' shoulders seemed to sag with relief. "I just think that," he paused, trying to come up with the right words, "that we-, you should take a break from the pack," he cringed when it sounded like a bad break up excuse.

Stiles stiffened and Derek could smell the irritation and anger wafting off his lithe form.

"What? _What_? You think I need to take a _break_ from the pack?" Derek could hear how bad that sounded and opened his mouth to correct his words, but Stiles didn't give him a chance.

"You think I need to take a break because, because I got _hurt? What_? Derek, that is _so stupid_. Did you think that if I stopped coming to the meetings and trainings, that I wouldn't be involved anymore?" Yes, that's exactly what Derek thought. Stiles continued, furious, "You do realize that my best friend is still part of the pack and I would still get involved through him, right? And I hang out with the pack at school. If I took a break, I wouldn't have friends," he eyes looked wild as he gestured quickly through the air.

"Plus, lets not forget that even without the pack, I get in enough trouble. Even before being in the pack, I was always getting in trouble, so don't think this would help me stay safe. It would just make me lose all my friends and when I did get in trouble, no one would be able to come and help me out," he was practically panting when he finished and Derek looked contrite.

"I just want you to be safe," Derek mumbled, looking away, an obvious sign of guilt.

Stiles took back his previous thoughts, he wasn't Odysseus, Derek was. He kept trying to do the right thing, get out of the messes, but all the bad shit seems to happen to him. Kate, the fire, Laura, some hooligan teenagers (cough, cough) always trying to get him arrested, the kanima, rouge hunters and a whole slew of bad ideas and bad karma. Right now he was trying to convince Stiles to stay away because he was, what? Human? Vulnerable? He was trying to do the right thing but the shit always got messed up. He was dealt a really bad hand of cards.

"You can't protect me from life, Der," Stiles softened his voice, "bad things are going to happen, and I might get hurt, but that's life. We can do everything we can to protect ourselves, but if the pack is split apart, it would be the worse thing to do. Someone once said that, it's less about what we do during the bad times, but more about what we do afterwards, that define us. We'll get through this, we always do, but don't make me leave the pack, please. I don't know what I would do without my friends... without you,"

Derek looked up sharply at that, his expression unreadable.

"Please," Stiles said, not quite knowing what he was asking for. His eyes darted between Derek's eyes and his mouth. He didn't realize how close they were sitting until he focused and could feel Derek's breath on his cheek.

Derek nodded mutely, watching him with hurt eyes. Stiles so badly wanted to make that hurt go away. The thought of losing the pack sent shards of pain through his heart. He thought that he just might be in love with this stupid werewolf.

He leaned forward slightly, his mouth only inches away from Derek. He paused; he didn't want to force Derek to do anything, especially this; Stiles wanted Derek to choose, he wouldn't take away his choices, like the rest of the world did to him.

He could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears. His eyes were half closed, looking out at Derek's lips.

Maybe Derek didn't feel the same way about him that he felt for him. The thought made it hard to breathe. If Derek didn't feel the same way, maybe Stiles _would_ have to take a break from the pack, if only to get over his heart break.

After a painfully long pause in which Stiles thought Derek was going to pull away, the werewolf did the opposite, leaning in slightly and slanting their lips together.

Given permission, Stiles rested his hands on Derek's biceps and allowed Derek to lead the kiss. At first, it was just dry, careful, chaste presses of lips, but Stiles or Derek, or whomever was leading this show, started to gain a little confidence, moving their lips more sensually against the other's.

Stiles was feeling overwhelmed and excited. He didn't know what he was doing because of his lack of experience but he liked to think that he was a fast learner. Derek seems completely oblivious to Stiles' lack of skill and only pressed himself closer to Stiles.

When he could feel Derek's tongue pressed against the seam of his lips and he opened his lips obligingly and allowed him entrance. Derek's mouth was hot and open over his. Stiles felt Derek's tongue lick and slid against his own then his teeth bit at his lips, his jaw, down his neck, then back up.

_Oh my god_ Derek was a good kisser and Stiles was washed away with the feeling of Derek's tongue and lips and hands on his shoulders and face. It was heady and passionate and they were _only_ kissing.

Feeling confident, he tugged Derek's lower lip between his teeth and Derek moaned. _Moaned_. Derek moaned at something Stiles did. It was a heady rush to know that he could affect someone else so easily.

Stiles began kissing him with vigor, lips, tongue and sometimes teeth. It was amazing. He wanted more. No, he _needed_ more.

Stiles pulled Derek on top of him and willingly spread his legs to fit Derek a little better.

"Stiles," Derek moaned, sounded wrecked as he began to use his teeth and lips to mark his skin.

Stiles moved slowly, unwilling to spook Derek. Carefully, he slide his fingers up underneath the hem of his tee-shirt, tracing his finger tips over his sides, clenching back muscles and abdomen.

When Derek bit a more tender spot behind his ear, Stiles gripped Derek with splayed fingers, arching and pushing his hips up to meet Derek's.

And oh my. Derek was hard. His hard length pressed against his jeans, pressing against Stiles' own, very hard dick. Stiles pulled Derek down more firmly on top of him so he could feel Derek pressing against him. His skin was tingling and sensitive.

They kissed, moving with languity, lips moving carefully. Stiles felt Derek's tongue push past the seam of his lips and Stiles eagerly met his tongue with his own.

Derek's coarse thumb traced the edge of Stiles' pants. His skin feeling so sensitive, his stomach muscles contracted and he gasped, sucking the air from Derek's mouth, into his own mouth. Derek stilled over him, and after a moments pause, did it again. Stiles gasped and bucked his hips.

"Please," he begged, "please," he needed more.

Stiles whimpered when Derek pulled back, clawing at his shoulders to stay on top of him. Instead of getting up and leaving, like Stiles thought, Derek stayed hovered over Stiles but moved to open Stiles' button and zipper.

Stiles watched, mouth a gap, as Derek pulled his zipper down, freeing his painfully hard dick from his boxers.

Shushing him with a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, Derek pulled back again to watch Stiles' face as he palmed Stiles' teenager griped Derek's shoulders.

"_Derek_," he whimpered.

Needing no more invitation, Derek pushed Stiles' jeans and boxers down to his knees and did the same for his pants.

Stiles watched Derek is awe, first there was tanned, jutting hip bones, then a nest of dark hair, then a thick, red, wet cock.

Later he would think how uncomfortable it was to have his pants around his knees, I mean, why not just take them off all the way? Is there some sort of rush that makes it more time efficient to leave them half on? Oh, right. Stiles didn't fucking care because Derek Hale was in bed with him, touching him, licking him, and doing all sorts of crazy things to his body and his nerves. It felt amazing.

Derek grabbed Stiles' dick and slide his hand up and down, tugging mercifully with his dry palm; it _hurt_, but it also felt so good. Watching with lust heavy eye lids, he whimpered and moaned, not really knowing if they were pleasure sounds, pain sounds or a little of both.

"Lube?" Derek asked, his voice deep and wrecked.

"Drawer," Stiles gulped, and managed to point to the bedside table. Derek leaned over and pulled out the small tube Stiles had there. It was half empty and Derek raised his eye brow at this.

"What?" Stiles muttered defensively, "I'm all into exploring my body," Derek only snorted in response, capping the flip lid and squirting some onto his hand.

Stiles was not about the tell him that he used the lube to jack off and finger himself, thinking of Derek and his rippling muscles, his handsome brow and jaw, his electrifying eyes... he would imagine Derek's rough hands on his skin and what he could do with his mouth.

When Derek brought his hand back to Stiles' dick, it was slick and cool, slipping quickly over his length and making Stiles' toes clench in pleasure.

It was such a sensation to have someone else touch his dick, someone being Derek fucking Hale. He didn't think anything could get better than this, until Derek paused for a moment, shifting his weight so he was mostly kneeling in between Stiles' legs, and grabbed both of their dicks together and started to slide his hand over them together. _Oh my god_.

He felt like he was burning up, the feeling of Derek's dick pressed against his own while Derek jerked him off, so hot. Derek held both of their dicks together, sliding his hand slowly and rhythmically over the shafts.

Derek paused again and pushed a pillow under Stiles' hips, raising his lower body so his dick was more aline with Derek's. Stiles guessed the angle was uncomfortable. Derek was kneeling in between his legs, leaning forward with his weight on his free hand. It was an incredible show of strength and control, that he was able to hold himself in such an awkward position while participating in something that usually made people less in control.

When Derek began again, it felt so good. Derek's dick was hot and wet and with the sliding motion, Stiles was unable to control his little spastic hip thrusts.

He needed his hands on Derek. He needed his hands to be everywhere _right_ now. His hands moved up Derek's arms, across his shoulders, down his back, up his sides, never staying anywhere longer than a breath. It was driving him crazy. He needed to feel his skin under his finger tips.

Muttering with impatience, Stiles lifted Derek's shirt up but got caught on his arm pits. Derek had to stop what he was doing to allow the shirt to come off. His dick was cold without Derek's hand and he whimpered at the loss but in a moment, the shirt was off and Derek was back at it. Stiles leaned his body forward and was able to claw his own shirt off too.

Later he would be embarrassed about how his body looked in comparison to Derek, but at the moment, he was so driven by lust, that he didn't care.

Derek watched his hand for a moment, but then flicked his eyes up to Stiles' face, watching him with an intensity that would normally make him squirm with uncomfortableness, but at the moment the gaze was hot and heavy and made him impossibility more hard and wanting. It was an open vulnerability that made the moment even more raw, even more tender.

"Mine," Derek murmured, eyes latched on to Stiles'.

The thought of Derek claiming him cut through Stiles with a deep desire to let him be his. Yes, he wanted this.

"Yours," he responded.

Derek's face was so open, tenderness and something Stiles would later recognize as love, blazed from his features. Derek's hand tightened and moved faster as if invigorated from their proclamations.

Stiles was writhing on the bed, panting open mouthed. He wasn't going to last much longer.

His hands moved quickly across Derek's shoulders and back, digging into his muscles hard enough, that Derek rumbled above him. Leaning forward, he bit and licked Derek's collar bone and neck, knowing that he was being sloppy and wet but not caring.

"uh, oh my god, Derek, uh, I'm going to come," he rasped, feeling the building pressure deep in his belly, not caring that his mouth was opening and closing with pathetic wantonness.

Derek growled, his grip tightening. His fingernails dug into Derek's shoulders and with a filthy, open mouthed gasp, he was coming all over his stomach and chest. In less than a breath, Derek was coming hard too, his mouth open, canines elongated and features morphing under his skin, stuck between human and wolf. He howled his release.

Stiles leaned up, licking into Derek's mouth and grabbing at his shoulders, completely and totally wrecked.

When Derek was finished milking all the come from both of them, he collapsed down next to Stiles on the mattress. Derek, still in his beta form, grabbed him with gentle claws and kissed him back, even with the mouth full of pointed teeth. Stiles leaned into the kiss and trailed his fingers over Derek's side burns.

After another long, tender kiss, Derek leaned over, sniffed the come on Stiles' skin, than began licking it up.

"Whoah," Stiles breathed, watching the werewolf lick it all up. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide. He thought about this before but didn't realize he was going to like it. By the end, his skin was shiny and cool from Derek's tongue. It was alarming how quickly he could adjust to weird shit in his life.

"Dude, that's hot," Stiles confessed, "is this another werewolf thing?"

Derek only gave him a feral grin, now back in his complete human form, and leaned up and kissed him again.

"Mine," the werewolf growled over Stiles' skin.

"Yours," Stiles agreed.

They pulled their clothes back on and settled back on the bed. Stiles was curled up against Derek's chest, his arms tucked up between them with Derek's arms wrapped around him like a blanket. Derek moved his hand over Stiles' shoulders and back, lightly tracing and massaging.

"Mine," Derek whispered into his temple.

"Yours," Stiles murmured in return.

It felt so good and he felt so safe that he couldn't help falling asleep.

* * *

He's sure that his scent was different. He did take a shower afterwards, but, well, the smell of sweat and sex lingers for unknown amounts of time, especially for the skewed hypersensitive sense of smell of a werewolf. Whatever. He didn't care if the pack knew or not.

When the pack arrived, almost everyone politely ignored it. Isaac smiled hugely, as if he could possibly radiate his happiness through his teeth. Erica smirked and said, "finally," Scott squirmed uncomfortably and looked like he _wanted_ to say something, but would wait until he and Stiles were alone. Jackson on the other hand...

"What the fuck have you been doing Stillinski?" he continued without pausing, "Well, it's about time! You and Derek had been circling each other for weeks," Stiles' eyes were wide as he swung his eyes back and forth between Jackson and Derek. Surely Derek would protest or growl or something. Instead, he just sat there, his arm swung around Stiles' shoulder and smirked.

Stiles thought that, in his own way, Jackson was accepting their relationship. The whole pack seemed to accept them.

After everyone settled down, they watched some movies, ate snacks and had a really good time. Stiles stayed with Derek all evening and Derek held him close. There was no need to try and hide their relationship now. From the way they smelled, everyone in the pack knew that Stiles belonged to Derek and Derek to Stiles.

When the movie was over, Isaac snuggled up against Stiles for a hug, leaning his curly head on Stiles' shoulder and wrapping his arms around his waist. Derek moved his arm and grabbed Isaac even closer, pulling the boy off balance and making him tumble into Stiles and Derek. They were all lying on the floor, creating the perfect opportunity for a puppy pile. Like one body, the whole pack surged around them, cuddling and nuzzling, ending in giggles and smiles. Even Boyd and Jackson were not immune to the pull of the puppy pile, Everything was so... right.

Even after the weekend trauma, he felt okay and he knew that with time, he would only get better, especially with his pack. The whole pack understood, in a way, and could and would comfort him, even Jackson. It was comforting to have such a group and Stiles was grateful. Derek knew especially, first hand, what happened and was there for him in any way he could be. Derek, his friend, his alpha, his lover, was there for him.

They laid down with their sleeping bags and Derek welcomed Stiles into his arms and pulled him close. Isaac was on his other side and rolled, spooning Stiles from the other side. He could feel Erica petting his leg. Stiles smiled into Derek's chest, happy to have his pack.

End.

* * *

Thank you for all your support to help me finish this story. I know I was really lagging behind to post this final chapter but I kept rewriting sections because I wasn't quite satisfied yet. Thanks for hanging in there with me and thank you for reading my story! I hope you liked it.


End file.
